Life, the Universe and a cup of tea please

A new review disease

2011-08-03T20:05:00.003Z

I have noted as late a strange disease that has hit Amazon, and probably other sites too.

It used to be blogspam, or I suppose reviewspam that caused minor irritation; spambots being quite good nowadays and lots of customers objecting to posts that are obviously not reviewing, but advertising, that was the favoured method of getting someone's attention. It is very unethical, and very naughty.

Nah, there's a new one. It's as old as Mark Antony and peering at the Amazon site late at night on my Kindle, as often as I do, I'm on to them. What puzzles me is why they do it. It is praising an item so effusively that you think "this sounds good" and download it. But the book is, at best, mediocre. In some instances, the book is just downright dire. The truth comes out later with moaning reviews on how they downloaded it on the basis of the previous 5 star reviews and have been left with something taking up another little portion of their Kindle.

I've only seen them on free (for the time being) downloads, but I'm thinking the virus has spread to the paying books too. My theory is that these guys are Amazon Associates (so am I, but it was a very half-hearted attempt to get thatangellook to pay its way, I have never tried, and don't want to try, aggressive marketing) - eventually these books will be on the paid list, for a price from around £4.99.

The trouble is, the Associates are making themselves look stupid by bumping a complete turkey up the Bestsellers list. This in turn, causes, one, genuinely good items to sink and be ignored (there are honestly some gems in the free books list), and two, Kindle owners to become disheartened with everything they imagined the Kindle to be. Most of it is true, they just haven't found the diamonds in the rough. It also gives the Associates a bad name, just another set of blagging salesmen.

Free books are the window for new authors. I have bought books from authors on the strength of the freebie. The shenanigans of these so-called "reviewers" can only cause damage to the market, only minor, but every little bit helps.

I can spot them a mile off now, it's the style of the reviews that are so similar, a hundred different user names but probably only a couple of dozen actual people. But they are trying to get money under false pretences. (I have seen one or two that claim to be authors themselves. Really. I'll show you some swampland in Florida that is prime for holiday lets.)

How do they sleep nights? If you do it, please stop.

Aces

2010-09-19T17:04:00.000Z

Well colour me purple and call me Barney. This is the first post I've written from that marvellous piece of new Amazon tech called the Kindle.

Memories, like the corners of my mind (Part 1)

2010-06-24T12:21:00.001Z

I've been in payroll 23 odd years, and it's bizarre that, as I look about and consider whether to maybe have a career change, or at least, modification, because there are too many ghosts, memories, echoes, some good, some bad, some hysterical, some devastating.

It's easy to forget, even in Front Line payroll, that I am paying real people (it is very common to completely forget in Back End) . This might sound odd, but payroll has a production line mentality so that you don't realise how crucial that commission, bonus, overtime or sickness payment is to an employee. And although some payslips may make you shriek in fake horror, because they pay more tax than you get net earnings in a year, or the dreaded 'I don't understand my payslip' and you are looking at a statement that would make Einstein consider his career pathway, you either love or hate payroll. I've seen colleagues come and go, a lot stay in payroll (though there are a few here that are saying they won't go back into payroll again, but that's because most of them have never had the inspiration to try anything else until they are forced to, as they will be), but a few go, and I've heard a lot of bizarre reasons.

"This was just a stop gap until I found a proper career" (Like payroll is not a career. Everyone has to get paid some time. Try telling that to the IPP.)

"It's too easy, I want to try something else" (Read: I am no bloody good at this job and I should leave before the boss realises)

"It's boring." (You've never tried to find the entertainment in your work, have you?)

Actually - the last? Well, yes, payroll can be mighty dull, but you find your entertainment, particularly in a payroll of the size I work on, which has all the colours of human society, and some of them can speak proper English. When someone throws a girly tantrum on the phone, you do have a laugh about it afterwards with your colleagues, because that is what keeps you sane. Boring? The majority of the actual work, maybe. The flavours and the satisfaction of doing the crucial and interesting tasks, making "friends" with people over the phone (due to the frequency of your telephone conversations) but sadly you will probably never meet. Boring? On the whole, no, I love my job, and I will probably cry buckets when I leave.

Home?

2010-06-11T18:11:00.001Z

The provisional agreement of how much we will get on leaving next year has been made. Course, this starts dreams of how to spend it, but mine started incredibly practical; pay off all annual bills, any debts outstanding, new puta, washing machine (rather than renting it) so that I can probably survive, for at least a year, on the likely lower salary.

However, a new thought came into my head, or the old home sickness if you like, dreaming of my old home. I think I have memories of what it was, not what it became and was growing to hate. There are old ghosts that I need to lay to rest, and people I should see, in case that it is a long, long time before I go back again. So, next spring, I'm going back to the borough in which I was born, for a week maybe, confront the ghosts and come back...home...and maybe free of the doubts, and rid of some of the fears.

Planning

2010-06-04T12:47:00.000Z

It is maybe 10 months to R-day, although it may be that it could be as long as a year. This means I have to undergo something totally alien to me - Planning.

I have never been a good planner. True, I sorta 'planned' our move from London to N Wales, and sorta 'planned' my wedding 20 odd years ago, but it still needed nagging from various parties or even physical manhandling (oo er) for me to get done what needed to be done.

There are some plans in my head, including the practical stuff I could do soon after the dread day (although I am not sure if that is an accurate description) but whether I will actually do them, well, that just remains to be seen. I know me too well.

There are lots and lots of stuff I have 'in progress'. I mean, you name it, training on general workplace stuff (what my colleague calls 'clipboard management training'); training on technical stuff such as Java, CSS; training in Knowledge Management, short stories started, not finished; Welsh language learning in progress...actually there is shed loads more that I could state but could never remember. Oh yeah, thatangellook and SHOTS reviews. Oh, and keeping the job I've got going, and my sanity, for up to a year. Oh and yeah, keeping the other half happy. And...

You get the picture.

Actually, this is me all over. I Am Work In Progress. Wouldn't have it any other way.

The Nick N Dave show

2010-05-16T16:04:00.001Z

Am I alone in my optimism for the new government? I remember that some people thought, given the age gap, my marriage wouldn't last 6 months. Here I am, twenty years later, still married to the same guy, and although there is hardly a parallel with politics, the principle is the same. The apathy and cynicism amongst other bloggers just disgusts me.

I think some people are forgetting that if this all goes belly up, the few that were voting for the LibDems probably never will again. They could have said no, sat back as the Tories tried to form a minority government, joined with Labour in a vote of no confidence a few months down the line and started again. Probably getting similar, or maybe more, votes at the next General Election.

You could say what they have just done is potentially political suicide.

On the other side of the swing, you have Cameron, probably desperate since a babe to become PM, willing to take a job on that is a poisoned chalice. Is this a guy who stopped at nothing just to get power, or does he really want to make a difference? At the end of it, he could be hero or...um...zero. And everyone will go back to voting Labour, who spent the last 13 years spending money we didn't have.

So it seems a lot of people, including those idiots shouting 'Tory Scum' at the end of Downing Street want the wars abroad to continue, want their money going in one pocket and out of the other, want no growth in this country, and want a voting system where no party will get a majority and therefore major reform in anything will be impossible.

I vote for change. Yeah, it's gonna hurt. But it can't hurt more than the last few years of someone who was not capable of running the country. Why don't you give them a chance before saying it is all going to fail? Why not do something radical, such as support them, or if that sticks in the craw, sit back and let them get on with it? They might surprise you. Yeah, it might go belly up. But I for one am impressed that they are willing to try.

A new home

2008-06-29T11:57:00.002Z

This blog is moving and becoming a web page off my own website That Angel Look. Although I have enjoyed my time here, it's easier to consolidate things.

The blog will contain the same inane ramblings, I expect, along with stuff about a minor obsession I have with Mike Ripley's Angel series.

Hope to see you there. The direct link to it is here

No blog

2008-05-07T07:53:00.003Z

In a bizarre turn of events, I can't blog from home any more - not sure why, maybe something to do with Zone Alarm or the AVG update? Whatever! I don't blog very frequently, and the thing is... has been seriously overlooked for a long time, but it's going to be even longer, as I am concentrating my writing on my new web site. Link later when it has more than a page. Mebbe I'll transfer my blog to there.

Just when I thought...

2008-03-06T16:54:00.003Z

Look, no apologies for not posting for a rigidiculous amount of time. I've been busy, and sulking for most of the time I have to admit. Trouble at work. Don't ask.

I was perhaps thinking, had a mere inkling at the back of my mind that Mike Ripley's Angel's Share was going to be the last in the series. Not so. I'm ashamed that the mere thought had even begun to speculate about the merest possibility of crossing my mind. (sorry Douglas).

There it is in the rainforest bookstore (cryptic). In black and white. Sometimes blue and white. Whatever. Angels Unaware. Out in July. Oh yes.

Rollin', rollin', rollin'

2007-11-25T11:56:00.001Z

The overused phrase "heads will roll" has been overused to mighty capacity lately. If the Inland Revenue are ISO accredited, does this mean they will lose it? The dear old company has just recently passed their latest annual assessment, and I know, for darn sure, if anything like this had happened at our company, you would have seen enough heads to play a game of bowls.

Actually, its not really head rolling. I wonder if Henry VIII, in a fit of religious fervour, or pissed off because the latest offspring was a daughter, again, he stated ' Forsooth, heads will roll'? Or maybe that should be in Latin. Or French. I forget.

It's more like dominoes actually. Firstly, the head of the department gets whacked, who then whacks the manager, who then whacks the team leader, who then whacks the senior, who then whacks the junior.

Just as dramatic, in my opinion.

Site traffic...vroom vroom beep beep (or something)

2007-10-22T17:41:00.000Z

OK, so my little website is not exactly the M25 of the Internet Superhighway, in fact, it's one of those minor routes that only sheep lorries use, and maybe they just about have the edge. All the same, I am surprised with the number who view the page on a weekly basis. No, it isn't just me, as internet access at work is now severely restricted and I really don't visit my blog that much after I've posted.

The thing is....the thing is....is probably getting more traffic than this blog, oddly, that was totally not the point of the exercise.

Think I'll add a counter to that one too, to see if my suspicions are correct. Then decide what I'm doing right in the other...hang on...I'm part of the 82% revolution, and since I'm never read, this means I have to make efforts not to become part of the machine...omg my head hurts.

Thanks for reading, whoever, wherever and whenever you are.

YOU have something to say

2007-10-05T20:38:00.000Z

Was browsing blogs today using the link facility in my profile.

Just clicking on North Wales brings up an incredible cross cut of society, amongst other types; some young, some old, some sci-fi addicts, some horror film fans, gardeners, hikers, dog walkers, cross stichers, strange musical tastes and stranger religions and frankly, some downright weirdos.

Unfortunately, the majority of them, although they felt they had something to say when they started their blog, after a week or two ran out of something to say, or maybe just got bored. OK, so I'm not the best at updating my blogs, and such a length of time passes on occasion that I sometimes wonder whether it is worth posting when there is too much to say, or is it just too mundane.

Of course, the reason for abandoning a blog could really be very simple. Lost the password, and even worse, lost the webmail account that you used to sign into blogger. Thus the poor website is lost forever as a piece of history clogging up the web, but never read. However, these lost souls are in the minority. Sadly, I think it is just plain boredom, in the main, or laziness, even worse.

YOU have something to say. Yes, I'm sure that you thought that your blog would become a masterpiece fit for the Booker Prize, but once you get over the disappointment that even your mates can't be bothered to read it, writing, even with poor spelling or with grammar as bad as mine, it can be an outlet for your frustrations and is in fact a piece of history. Oh yes, writing brings out the very personality of the writer. It's what makes them fascinating.

You can't change the world with your blog. You may sell a book (as some have done, and some are trying to do) or you may even get a job (that's happened too). But the likelihood of making a shedload of money from your mundane ramblings are fairly similar to lottery odds. But that doesn't matter, cos this is YOU. Something to look back on later, you may be surprised at how insightful you are, even if you didn't think so at the time. Something you could even show your kids, cos unless you tell blogger to ditch the blog, or you're breaking blogger rules (some sick ones out there I can tell you) it is there forever. Unlike a diary or book, it is difficult to destroy and can't be burned. Why consign it to one post saying something along the lines of 'my first post! look forward to all sorts of excitement!'. Six months later that same first post is still there and looking utterly pathetic. One even said that his blog was 'under construction'. Oh dear. Batteries not included.

So then. Post. If you're not going to post, delete the blog. When you feel the muse upon you, start again, they're free after all. Don't post with 'update later' and don't. It's annoying. It's like saying you'll phone a friend at 9 and wait for them to phone you.

If we've lost the power of actually talking to each other because of the 'net, let's start a new revolution, and be part of the fascinating culture that is 82% of the net. Unsung, never read, sometimes boring but actually a reflection of world society and all its personalities and culture.

Wanted

2007-09-25T18:05:00.000Z

Sadly, I found that a lot of the blogs that I used to have linked I either don't visit anymore or they don't exist anymore. Some blogs I don't want to link to, as they are somewhat personal and I feel like I'm intruding just reading them.

So, what I want is some more blogs as the list is looking rather sad. Rules are quite simple.

1. Not too popular. It's hip to be square, yep you gotta be the 82% of the web that is hardly read.

2. Do NOT be up your own anus. I can smell bovine excrement at 20 paces. If your life really is that exciting, why aren't you out there living it rather than on the web.

3. Humour welcome, but not mandatory.

4. You might get linked to anyway, whether you want it or not.

Spring clean in Autumn

2007-09-12T12:42:00.000Z

I decided to upgrade my blog and give it a fresh look.

Those who were on my blog list, if you still read this of course, don't be offended, your link will be back again, just as soon as I find the time to track you all down, check the links still work and post you up there again :-)

Us and Them

2007-09-10T17:46:00.000Z

In light of the news from the USA today, lyrics from a Pink Floyd track that are over 30 years old, but still powerful today.

Us and Them
And after all we're only ordinary men
Me, and you
God only knows it's not what we would choose to do
Forward he cried from the rear
And the front rank died
The General sat, and the lines on the map
Moved from side to side

Black and Blue
And who knows which is which and who is who
Up and Down
And in the end it's only round and round and round
Haven't you heard it's a battle of words
The poster bearer cried
Listen son, said the man with the gun
There's room for you inside

Down and Out
It can't be helped but there's a lot of it about
With, without
And who'll deny it's what the fighting's all about
Out of the way, it's a busy day
I've got things on my mind
For want of the price of tea and a slice
The old man died

The circus has left town

2007-09-03T17:35:00.000Z

Nah, not Rhyl's funfair. Oh I'm sure there's a few tears at the passing of the garish monstrosity but I'm not biased (oh sure).

No. At least 75% of the tourists have left. We saw coaches and caravans passing by our window yesterday and inwardly heaved a sigh of relief that we don't have to put up with that lot any more. If only tourists were polite and treated the resorts as they would their own town. (Mind, you perhaps they do, that's the trouble.)

In other news, I note that my last post was about Dean, which has now been replaced by Felix. (I think it was Erin in between which was a mere tropical storm). Gil has already burned (or is blown) out, but Henriette is looking scary. Felix went overnight from category 2 to 5. I mean, the mind boggles. Our hurricane in '87 was a baby in comparison, barely a category 1 if I remember rightly.

Have a look at the USA hurricane site (I really can't be bothered to post a link, go to Google for crying out loud). Click on the satellite pics. Felix is a monster. Looking at the hurricane names link - there may be a Hurricane Fiona in a couple of years.

I couldn't bear to be a mere storm or, even worse, depression. I mean, 'Tropical Depression Fiona' sounds like an office nickname.

Dean

2007-08-19T10:35:00.000Z

Having an internet radio means that you can access some 6,500+ stations from around the world. We were listening to the aftermath reports from Dominica last night, this morning we're listening to Jamaica. Dean has not hit them yet, and the announcer sounds calm, but you can sense a terrible undercurrent of fear. Joking aside of how incredibly laid back most Jamaicans are (moving in a slow hurry today) or the weather forecasts (its gonna get a bit windy out there) I am very nearly on the verge of tears. They are coming through so loud and clear they could only be just up the road. The faith that is pouring forth from so many of them just makes me realise how blessed I am, when so many Jamaicans are worrying about food, water and even their homes. God bless each and every one of them, they will be on my mind for the next 24 hours and beyond.

A bit of Burberry

2007-08-17T19:43:00.000Z

According to this I am 18% chav.

Thank goodness for that.

Oh my gosh I feel like a teenager....

2007-08-08T18:32:00.000Z

In the August edition of "Getting Away With Murder", written by my very favourite author, Mike Ripley, he mentions ME!!!!

I sorta would like to get in contact with him to thank him for the birthday wishes and ask him when he's going to get Fitzroy to change a few nappies. I think though it's going to remain a happy memory, and use it as encouragement to make some headway with "Echoes".

Thank you "The Ripster" if you read this. You made this stalker very happy :-)

The life of Fi

2007-08-02T13:20:00.001Z

I've decided to keep personal life away from this blog and just keep this one for occasional humour or a shout about stuff going on in the world that's bugging me. I set up "The Thing Is...." yesterday. Not using full names there, and besides it is mainly a very personal blog for general review of my attitudes on a day to day basis. Friends or pyschiatrists may be interested but I somehow think that it will remain the 82% of the web that never gets read, and frankly that's probably all for the best.

Yeeeeeeeeeeessssshhhhhhh

2007-07-21T17:43:00.001Z

Sometimes I have a quick looksee at web sites that suck and frequently I come away wondering what they are on about...ok so the site is a little shabby...but akin to a vacuum cleaner, um, no. The exception are those 'arty' websites of "artistes" so far up their own backsides that yoga practitioners are jealous, or because they have done one or two fairly successful advertising campaigns, this gives them the right to be rather mysterious cos they're famous now innit.

Can someone please tell me what planet this guy was on when he put this travesty together. What's wrong with point and click? And maybe provide some clues as to why?

I can't think of a title for this...too tired

2007-07-17T17:58:00.000Z

Not too tired to have a laugh though.

And you can make one of your own. Go on. You know you want to.

Learned some things today

2007-07-06T15:34:00.000Z

The distance I'm prepared to travel to work

The value of trying, for if I hadn't tried, I would never have known

Not to shoot at the stars before I can hit the moon

What I need to achieve to enable me to move forward

The love of a good man is worth more than gold

When the going gets tough...

2007-07-03T12:44:00.000Z

....the tough go shopping*. Having forgotten how rubbish Rhyl is for anything other than casual shopping, after trying on Saturday, we hit Llandudno today. I had M&S vouchers saved for goodness only knows how long (one of them at least 10 years old and without a bar code, causing a bit of a delay at the till...oh well the staff are trained to be good-humoured). The vouchers were enough to buy me a suit for Friday, I just had to buy a blouse, so the lot cost me £8. Even the SOH was happy, he got a hat from a charity shop and I also got a more "serious" handbag from same charity shop. I managed to get shoes at least from Rhyl, so the only thing missing now is tights. And remembering to control my breathing. At least I'll look the part although my heartbeat is not going to stop doing 120 until I'm actually in the interview room. Strange how it is the getting there that gets my adrenalin going, rather than the being there.

The letter from potential employer came today, just in case I thought I may have been dreaming on Friday.

* Can't take credit for this one (can't take credit for many actually). This is a quote from a Mike Ripley novel, but no doubt he also got it from another woman, so I guess it really is a case of 'source unknown' :-)

Two weeks

2007-06-29T11:45:00.000Z

The length of time reckoned between application submission or deadline (as applicable) and a response. Any more, it is likely the application has been rejected. This, I learned from my early days on the job market with barely 3 O Levels and no confidence.

As the days ticked by, I was beginning to hope that the rejection letter came quickly and I could get the upset over and done with, with a week to go of my holiday, time to recover. The job is too far away, and do I really have the technical confidence to do it? The SOH hates the uncertainty and risk associated with a potential move, and believe me, I am no Cosmo woman, his opinion counts. Today is the 15th day after the deadline.....and a postal strike which I forgot about before I went downstairs to check.

Then........a phone call, from potential employer. Due to postal strike, they are phoning successful applicants and could I come and see them next Friday?

I'm in shock, I need a day or two to sort my head out.

I've seen it all now

2007-06-22T18:01:00.000Z

Webmasters are a funny species

2007-06-17T19:46:00.000Z

When I first started trying to build my own web pages I read a lot of dos and don'ts. Such as you never ever ever have a page stating "under construction" or somesuch. Page 404 (provided its done in a stylish manner) is forgiveable providing that you fix it soon, "under construction", no way lazy saddo, put something there or take it offline; after all, there is nothing there until you go through the tedious mucking about with the ftp.

Taking this advice to heart, v21's Webmaster came up with a cunning version on a theme. Oh be calm my aching, shaking sides. Just how long has it been since you started trading again?

As an aside - yes I did send the application off, though re-reading the job description I think they want someone a lot more technical and IT experienced than me, rather than the jackofalltradesmasterofnone sort like me. Still, I am in no hurry, I'm calm now and just waiting on the change in my life I have faith is coming.

Ohmateohmateohmate

2007-06-05T17:39:00.000Z

You know when you see that dream job, the one that makes your heart beat in your throat and your stomach do back flips?

I saw the position yesterday, and now I've an awful dilemma.

Y'see, it's nearly three times the distance away, I'd have to learn how to drive again probably (yikes) and I don't know if this was the opportunity that I sensed last Saturday (the job was posted a mere three days before I felt it). Also, it's a two year temporary contract.

I could do this job. It's what I could have been doing had I stayed in London. Those sorts of opportunities do not come around too often. I could write an application that will nearly blow their socks off (and, unlike some submissions made, it will be completely honest) and at least get to interview stage.

So...omigosh what do I do? I'm thinking too far ahead. Submit application and then wait....

Could it be....yes it could

2007-05-26T10:03:00.000Z

Today I woke up with that tremendous feeling of something is about to happen.

Now, I'm not a believer in premonition or astrology; not in the cold, hard way that occultists practise it anyway. I've a more vague belief that we are all part of one big Program and the sum of the parts are as big as the Universe (Douglas Adams was closer to the truth than he realised). Now, that's all a bit deep for a simple blog, but what I'm trying to say is, that when the adrenalin that flows through our body gets a kick for no particular reason that we can think of, I believe it is God's way of telling us to be on standby. Maybe it's an opportunity that's going to pass by my window and I just have to grab it. Or maybe (hopefully) it will fall at my feet. Good, I could do with a bit of excitement or something to focus on at least.

Or just maybe I'm mistaken and all it is is that Spring is slowly turning into Summer round here and its part of the ancient feeling of the changes of the seasons. We shall see.

Everybody Wants To Rule The World

2007-05-13T15:16:00.000Z

OK, so I was a bit down on Thursday (well I never would have guessed it Fi, strike me down with a 6 inch toothbrush etc)

I seem to have inherited my father's trait of metaphorically always being the bridesmaid and never the bride. To add to the anguish, the one who got made the bride has barely been there five minutes....I am calm...I am calm...

From my mother, I inherited The Sulk. When I was a kid I managed to milk this to full effect. As I grew up, I tried to hide The Sulk but it doesn't stop people asking you every 5 minutes if you're OK. So, Friday, The Sulk was on full throttle, but this time with the threat of bursting into tears at every quiet moment. What made it worse is the boss noticed. Now, since The-Rather-Well-Known-Utilities-Company payroll is running rather well at the moment, partly thanks to yours truly, The Sulk may have been misconstrued as The-About-To-Hand-In-Her-Notice-Look. So I was taken into a room and given a pep talk. And heard all the same rubbish I've heard before.

I don't like to use this blog as a diary, but I guess the above is all part of the rich fabric of LIFE. The Sulk is over. Time to move on and put my foot in another door.

Disappointment

2007-05-10T18:00:00.000Z

When the pressure of supposed failure
Overcomes the well of self-worth
And bursts forth in a wash of self-pity

The only consolation
Is that Someone, Somewhere
Loves and cherishes you more
Than your Glittering Prize

Out of the ashes?

2007-05-01T12:24:00.000Z

Interesting find this morning. V21 has started trading again.

Then I saw at the bottom of their webpage ESP1 trading as V21. I looked them up on Google and saw that seem to have lines in airskates and jeans.

Will the V21 I knew and loved ever return to what it was, or are they doomed to flit about the internet until someone manages them properly, with just V21 in mind and not other companies/interests?

Something else to talk about

2007-04-28T13:20:00.000Z

There's been an earthquake in Folkestone. Sounds like a line in Yes, Primeminister, doesn't it? BBC Radio Kent, doubtless grateful to have some news for once (actually, Kent seems to get it bad - the worst of flooding, the worst of the '87 hurricane) have been talking about it non stop for about 4 and a half hours.

Four and a half hours for something that lasted about 15 seconds??!!

OK, so you have to think about context and probability. We have had earthquakes of more than 4 before, but not very often. We get 'baby' ones every 6 months or so, but only dogs and the extremely alert feel them. As we are merely on the Eurasian plate, and not even the edge of that plate, an earthquake is an earthquake as far as we're concerned. I love to go to the USGS Earthquake Hazards Program website to get it into context of just how minor our big event was.

Have a gander at this. The stake was driven through the tyre by a tsunami caused by the Prince William Sound Earthquake of 1964.

We got it easy. Talk about important stuff please.

a word from archie

2007-04-20T18:35:00.000Z

helo. my name is archie. i am a flea who lepes from kee 2 kee to tipe owt mi mesage. fi has had a hard weke so dained to pas the keebord 2 me. as this is hard wurk as it is, i realy canot be botherred 2 hit caps lok evry tim i nede to start a sentuns, so u ma find redeing this a bit odd. fi dusn't like me posting 2 often as she sez i hav a speling problem. i hurd sumthin toda tho, and took grate delite in teling her that even the xperts get it rong sumtimes. royal male haz manidged to spel the ile of wite rong, it shud b wight hamshire sa. wel i can't tel any diffrunce myself, but wot wud i no im only a flea. i also poynted out that she maried sum1 who used to spel hounslow with a d in the midle and feltham contaned an o. that shut her up toot sweet and sed to post hear befor i showed her up even mor. so well done royal male. you prooved that not only fleas hav got speling problems, gave me a chans to hav my sa and also shut fi up 4 a bit.

Woodwork squeaks...

2007-04-10T07:07:00.000Z

I don't rely on tourism for a job. In some ways, I'm glad I don't, but sometimes, particularly when there is heavy pressure from the Global IT company on behalf of the rather well known utilities company, I think that just some pressure, occasionally, is better than the full-on-omg-we've-only-just-finished-tax-year-end-and-have-2-weeks-to-get-the-next-payroll-out stress that I seem to face every year, no matter how much quality prep time is available.

So it is with tourism. It's not like the onset of spring - you see a snowdrop, maybe a crocus one morning and then gradually, the daffodils appear and slowly turn the brown earth to green. Oh no. Every year, without fail, and without warning, on the first sunny day on or after Easter, most of Liverpool invades the coastal towns from Prestatyn to Llandudno. Llandudno has more to offer year round than most, so it is well prepared. Sleepy Prestatyn barely knows whats hit it. Rhyl, who looks ridiculous in bright colours from early October to Easter, suddenly wakes up and becomes a personality again, rather than a shameful blot on the North Wales landscape.

Its not so much woodwork squeaking (was not was), more a sorta battering ram at the gates of a flimsy barn, and when you spend hours on buses to get to favourite destinations, so easy to get to in the winter. And people can't even say to me, you wouldn't have a livelihood without them, cos I would.

There are plenty that do though, and once the true personalities come out during winter, i.e. everyone takes a deep breath and starts talking to one another again, and with civility, I just wonder whether the stress is worth it, and does the money really compensate? And who does it compensate?

Hmmm

2007-03-30T18:07:00.000Z

I do "fun surveys" on occasion, (as many of you know). Most I discard as rubbish. A laugh, but mostly of no consequence whatsoever. But after a stressful day and hearing some news that saddened me, this came as a welcome surprise.

Which Positive Quality Are You? Your Result: Faith You are Faith. Faith is the belief in better things, in spite of the cynicism and doubt that swirls around us. Faith gives us strength; it inpsires us to move forward and follow our hearts. "Faith tells us what the senses do not."
Love
Friendship
Courage
Peace
Charity

Amazing.

Lies, Damn Lies and Internet Service Providers

2007-03-21T12:09:00.000Z

Hey ho.

Biscit is no more.

Strangely, I'm not angry or upset at all. It has a sort of Shakesperian Tragedy feel to it, a sorta inevitability. So, they bought V21 to shore up their debts, and went bust trying to pull it all together again. 6,000 customers in the UK was not enough, and doesn't sound like enough to me, frankly.

I do feel a little sad saying goodbye to V21, the best ISP I have had dealings with (and I've been through a few). And the vultures have already started sending stuff to my inbox desperately wanting my business.

But I'm going to a company that I trust and is not likely to go bust after a couple of dodgy decisions by the MD. And its all set for next Monday.

When in Wales

2007-03-01T17:00:00.000Z

Although I'm an English girl, what better way to celebrate St David's Day?

Apparently, this is the official St David's Day Flag.

But I thought I'd add the more well known dragon flag.

Tee hee hee, idle hands an' all that...

2007-01-07T13:29:00.000Z

This is quite amazing - and I almost did myself an injury laughing. Read the 'customer reviews'. I haven't heard this 'masterpiece' yet, and probably never will, but I don't think I have ever seen anything like it on Amazon before. Give whoever did it a medal...or something...at least for brightening my day.

Update, 6 February 2007. Guess some killjoy (or realist) at Amazon decided that the reviews were somewhat fake. Ah well. This too, will pass.

I don't want to turn this into a cooking page...but

2007-01-06T20:45:00.000Z

I made a blinder of a fake pizza tonight. So good I had to write it down for posterity.

Ingredients
2 slices of back bacon, sliced into strips
handful of mushrooms, sliced
small onion, chopped
1 italian stock cube
2 slices of bread, preferably thickly cut from an unsliced loaf
tomato ketchup
a couple of handfuls of grated cheese - mozarella if you're feeling posh, else mild cheddar will do

salt and pepper to serve

Feeds 2, or a ravenous 1

Heat a frying pan - adding oil or butter if required
Chuck in the bacon, mushrooms and onion, fry until everything is soft, about 5 mins I guess. About 3 quarters the way through cooking, crumble over the italian stock cube and stir thoroughly
Meanwhile, toast the bread on one side under a hot grill, remove just before 'burning point' (i.e...."crisp"...but not charcoal...yeah?)
Spread some ketchup over the untoasted side of the bread. The squirty tommy kay is dead useful for this - I was quite gratified it was useful for something, you get it all over the table when you're trying to annoint your chips. I digress.
Pile on the bacon etc mixture on top, dividing the mixture equally yahdeyahda.
Top with the grated cheese
Place under hot grill and toast until cheese has started to get those lovely brown bubbly bits
Add salt and pepper to taste and handover one of them to loved one, who asks in astonishment how you managed to create something so tasty and amazing in 5 minutes (well, mine did). Alternatively, pick your favourite listening or watching pleasure with a glass of fave tipple and pig out.

Hah. Who needs you Jamie Oliver.

Well...erhem...how did I do?

2006-12-31T20:58:00.001Z

Not very well.

Still smoking.

Still have a limited grasp of the Welsh language.

SOH hasn't bought a radio in months, so guess I have kept that one. Like...if he had bought one I cannot say, with hand on heart, that I would not have fumed. Probably a little, so guess I haven't kept that one.

Due to an...er-hem...incident in April 2006, it would not have been politic or wise to look for another job. I would have either had a lot of explaining to do, or flannelling (which I'm really rather good at) or bare-faced lying (which I'm not). Still, the whole sorry episode of my life will be over by the end of April (and there's a massive clue). So...who knows what May onwards will bring?

Oh no, I don't play Waitress or Theme Hospital any more. I've moved on. I now play Clonk and Diner Dash.

Actually...the short story thing...erm...no. I did start a novel though and even if it takes months I will finish it. Update on 31 December 2007. I also joined Helium for practice and knowledge sharing (it may turn into the next Wikipedia)

Oh my gosh, my driving license is STILL not updated. I gotta get Surrey completely outta my system and then maybe I can start getting at the nicotine.

Finally. The whole sorry saga is out.

2006-12-02T13:04:00.000Z

We are delighted to inform you that your broadband connection can be restored in the coming days. A broadband cease has today been placed on your telephone line, and BT will de-tag it in the shortest possible timeframe thanks to the strong strategic relationship our parent company Biscit enjoys with BT Wholesale.

The reason that you have not had your full broadband service this past month has been well-documented on national television and radio, as well as in the press. Following Biscit's acquisition of V21 last month, one of our broadband suppliers presented the new owners with a burst bandwidth invoice covering services provided to part of the customer base.

The invoice included services the supplier claimed it provided to V21 customers since December 2005. But the second-tier broadband supplier did not have the technology to measure bandwidth usage on its networks until June 2006. The invoice was therefore rejected and a full audit was launched into all invoices from this supplier. The supplier retaliated by ceasing your broadband service and suggested that you switch to a more expensive broadband package with one of its business partners, ezeedsl.com of ISP 186k.

Happily, the very large majority of you refused to become a victim of this supplier's commercial practices. Our initiatives in raising public awareness of the supplier's antics as well as with Ofcom and various parliamentary committees then forced the supplier to restore your broadband service until the cease was placed on your line today. Clearly, we are seeking significant damages and you will receive a voucher in due course representing your share of the proceeds once the courts have processed our claim.

You will certainly be pleased to learn that the saga of last month has now ended. From today, we can begin re-provisioning you with the same broadband service at no additional cost on the servers of award-winning Biscit. No more middlemen. You'll be securely placed on the servers of one of Britain's most established broadband providers. You can retain your email addresses (important particularly during this festive month) and there will be no need to change any of your Internet settings.

We look forward to becoming your broadband provider once again. On behalf of the staff of V21 and Biscit, I would like to wish you and yours a very Happy Christmas and a Successful 2007.

What made me laugh is that on another piece of correspondance from V21/Biscit to their customers, they referred to the submission by NS as 'creative invoicing'. In my business, and accounting, there is a regular joke....think of a number that bears no relation to what you are trying to figure out, double it and take away the number you first thought of.

I shall review NS's website later and see if they have a response, but my attitude is still much the same (even given I was a little aggrieved by V21/Biscit's rather long silence on the subject) - NS are trying to make out that they are the injured party here. How can you lie in the gutter and say that life has dealt you an unfair hand if you gambled away all the money you ever earned? How can you say that you did not try to novate V21's customers when you tried to get everyone to sign up to another one of your clients? Like OJ Simpson driving away in a car, very fast, as far away as possible, after his wife was murdered. There could be a rational explanation. But you have to admit, it does look very bad.

NS chucked a backhand lob to Biscit. Biscit has now delivered a forehand smash. Can I have broadband back now please?

Love is....

2006-11-29T14:00:00.000Z

Such a weak word in the English language.

Mushy, soppy writing coming up..get ready with the Kleenex, or click onto another bookmark NOW.

You don't really understand love until you have really experienced it, and I'm not talking about the lustful feeling you may get when looking at that rather sexy shop assistant.

The Greeks have three distinct words for love (although certain expressions convey a lot more than English ever could); eros - passionate love, so love at first sight, the first 6 months or less (or so) of a relationship, but with a proviso that this actually develops into 'proper' love; philia - an enjoyment of companionship; agape - probably the most important of all, this is the "love stops at nothing" love and what Paul was on about when he said that if he didn't have it he was like a sounding bell or a tinkling cymbal. The KJV 1611 translates it as 'charity' - which just proves how weak our language is. The word charity is actually closer to the translation than the word love, which is what most modern translations have it, but even the meaning of the word charity had been watered down over the centuries.

The Bible, Plato and Aristotle aside (the latter two, as far as I'm aware, just spent time thinking about it rather than doing something about it), when you ask people of different ages, at different stages of their lives and at different stages of their relationships with other humans, "What Is Love?", you will get a hundred answers. Much like the Greeks, they don't really have definitive answers either.

What is love to me? I lost the initial eros love for my husband years and years ago. But it has developed into the love that Plato said that it should. Philia - I can't imagine being with anyone else and do not enjoy anyone's company more. Agape - I love him even when he does stuff that annoys me.

When you see an elderly couple walking down the road holding hands, and imagining that they have always been that way since they married in early sixties, you glimpse what love really is, and I still hold my husband's hand after 16 years and hope that I still will be in another 16 years.

One thing you can really be sure of - true love really is eternal, and you don’t need to be Greek to recognise that.

Oh....my....gosh...

2006-11-23T19:31:00.000Z

Atheist, agnostic or God-fearing believer, you cannot fail to be utterly over-awed by this.

Late addendum - just noticed this is my 50th post. Great that it was something inspiring for once, I really couldn't have planned it.

Good ISP....um...Bad ISP...

2006-11-23T19:02:00.000Z

OK, I'm very confused.

http://www.netservicesplc.com/pr_v_two_one.php

People power has won through and due to pressure, suddenly NS have temporarily connected us back again, but only guaranteed until Friday. Once we can no longer connect we can go where the heck we please.

Why no comment from V21/Biscit? Why have legal proceedings not commenced? Why has their customer service gone to pot, not answering even hypothetical questions from their users, but just laying the blame firmly at NS's door? And WHY have V21/Biscit not updated their website with the late olive branch from NS (albeit it sounds like a disgruntled and crushed olive branch)?

I don't want to move to EezeeDSL. But whilst V21/Biscit remain quiet on the issue and just state "It's not faaaairrr...its not ooourrrr fault..weee caaaan't doooo anneeethinnngg" like little kiddies, I'm seriously considering going somewhere else entirely. A shame. V21 were, by far, the best UK ISP I have used.

Bad bad bad BAD Customer Service

2006-11-16T13:22:00.000Z

Netservices terminates v21 services

I guess I have been pretty blessed not to be caught up in such a farce as this one before. Unfortunately, V21 has been my ISP for some time and, I believe, one of the best UK providers there are.

It's odd - I'm not feeling for myself very much. I feel for the customers of V21, the angry customers who phone up to complain, the telephone watchdogs and V21 customer services who must surely be going through hell. I can ride out the storm, connect to the internet via the LAN at my employer's when I need to and just wait until the bun fight stops, and V21/Biscit emerge victorious (as they surely will). The real 'child' here though is Netservices, aggrieved with losing their business to Biscit, and sulking because V21 queried an invoice, have turned to dirty tricks worthy of the alledged British Airways of some years back. In brief - they control the ADSL for the V21 broadband customers, so therefore can do what the heck they like with them, 'offering' them a service with another provider (in some cases, double the price of v21) and if we don't like it....well we can lump it, because we're not going to talk to you.

BAD BAD BAD ATTITUDE!

I've worked for employers that have taken a serious nosedive in the City - the way out is to work to improve your relationship with both your customers and suppliers - NOT try to make the best out of a bad situation by turning to tricks such as this.

Shame on you, Netservices. I don't think you will exist by the end of next year, and I don't think anyone will mourn your passing. Cut me off on 24 November, I will simply reconnect with V21. Some victory.

Sunday Morning (a short poem)

2006-11-13T12:59:00.000Z

The wind
and the rain
fight to get through my window

I
ignore them
and pull the duvet over my head

Ah. The joys of payroll.

2006-10-31T15:37:00.000Z

I posted this elsewhere sometime ago, and meant to double post to here, but never got round to it and lost the link. Found it today (thanks Google).

10 ways to nark off your payroll department

I work for a large payroll company and I'm currently working on a payroll that is a rather well known utilities company in the UK. For those inexperienced with contacting payroll, here are 10 easy ways of getting your payroll clerk aggravated:

A convo on the lines of this:Employee: "I'm paying too much tax." Me: "Have you handed in your P45?" Employee: "No. Do I have to?"
Rant. And Rant. And Rant. And swear. It don't get you anywhere honey. My trick is to hold the phone away from my ear until you've finished. I can't understand a word you're saying anyway. Other tactics, include, at best, terminating the conversation. At worst, putting you on speaker so the Payroll Manager can hear. PM has hot line to top man (or woman) at client. So be warned and watch your language.
Holding your baby whilst on the phone and allowing it to BAWL down the phone so I cannot hear a word you're saying, and yours and my blood pressure goes up. Oh yeah, I can do without Sky Sports on in the background too. Turn it off!
Telling me your life story, your latest operation, the troubles with your daughter, son, husband, wife, partner. It won't get the sympathy vote - the client doesn't pay us to cause sympathy to make us change the rules. I'm sorry for you - honestly - but it will not cause any change in the stance. Tell your sob story to your boss - HE can probably make things happen. We can't.
Tell me how to do my job, or tell me you could DO my job. One woman tried to teach me the joys of customer service (somewhere along the line of the customer is always right). The biggest laugh I got was when I was at the lower end of the pay scale (around £5) per hour and had an employee in a shop (on £3 per hour) telling me that payroll was easy and she could do my job, and indeed, HAD done my job. Right, lady, so why didn't you stay in payroll rather than be on your feet ALL day for £2 less an hour?
Tell me its MY job to chase up YOUR personal information. No. Its you or your manager. Beck and call girls (and boys) we are not.
Phone up at 9am on pay day, consultant unavailable, other consultant takes your phone number promising I will phone you back....you phone back at 9:30am demanding to know why I haven't phoned back. We get close to 200 phone calls on pay day, and your call stating that your union dues balance is incorrect is NOT priority. Oh, and we have until 3pm the next working day to phone back UNLESS you've been severely underpaid.
Be on over £50K, be underpaid by the price of a Malteser, and DEMAND payment NOW. Since when should I pay you out of principle, when I have a girl who's been underpaid SEVERELY, which was maybe ours, maybe the client's fault, and they say - its OK, I can wait. You high paid employees should be ASHAMED.
Say "I bet your pay is never wrong". Oh boy. Of course my pay has been wrong on occasion, because, like yours, MY payroll department is human. I don't get on the phone and talk to them the way you talk to them. (They're too close for a start)
Say "My pay is wrong every month". Y'know, out of morbid curiosity, all payroll clerks check this statement out. We usually find that your pay was wrong one month (our fault), wrong the next month (because we fixed our error, and the client, out of 'kindness' or some form of weird humour, instruct us to do something specific to fix it, so the correction is doubled up, and you're paid wrong again), and then....nowt. Rien. Nada. Your pay has been right 9 months in a row. Be careful again, we have the hot line to your boss and we record every query.

There are more. Much more. But these will do for now.

Farewell to The Red Baron

2006-10-26T12:02:00.000Z

This is about 5 days too late, but better late than weak tea.

I started watching F1 in '96 - I think mainly because a certain British driver was doing rather well. He, along with most of the others in the paddock, and the entire F1 fanbase had something to say about one Herr Michael Schumacher. Most of it uncomplimentary.

Damon, of course, won the F1 World Championship that year, although a lot of peeps were saying it was more down to his car rather than his driving ability. Michael had got himself disqualified - from the whole season. I don't remember the full details (though trying to run Hill off the road had something to do with it) but I don't think that British had been that pleased since 1966.

Course, I went along with the views of a lot of the fraternity - here was one arrogant, self centred, precocious son of a gun.

Then I watched his driving over the next 10 years and the disgust turned into utter admiration.

Oh yeah, sure, there were 'incidents'. And I'm not about to excuse them. Some of them were Michael all over, some of them he admitted and some of them weren't even his fault (but because he was 'involved' this all added to the 'Schumacher is ruining F1' debate)

I hear a lot about Senna - I wasn't watching in those days, but it seems that those that say that, although Schumacher is, statistically, the greatest F1 racing driver there ever was, that Senna is still their number 1 all time greatest racing driver.

For those that know all there is to know about racing, this could be informed opinion. Unfortunately, for the majority that say that it is down, in part, to that niggling little irration we have with all things and people German (though we do like Mercedes) and in part they don't want to be associated with someone that they think cheated his way to stardom.

You don't cheat all 90+ wins.

And I hate conjecture. Like when they say 'Senna would have wiped the floor with him'. Senna's dead guys. Senna could have been just seriously injured and given up racing the next day. He could have been so shaken up that he was never the same again. Or he could have been knocked down by a bus after the season ended. Conjecture is pointless. Just look at the guy's ability, particularly when Brundle, who is not, it has to be said, Schumacher's greatest fan, be awstruck by the sort of talent he displayed last Saturday. Effectively running last, he finished fourth and it seemed that every lap included another jaw-dropping, edge of the sofa with screams manouvre. It was like he was saying 'This is Me, this is what F1 will be missing when I'm gone and I am, and always will be, the greatest there ever was'.

Arrogance? Oh sure. But who cares about arrogance when you see a car driven so perfectly?

Some said Schumacher ruined F1. But I, for one, will probably not watch much more because of him dropping out. I can't see anyone beating his records, and I can't see any other personality in the paddock that will give us something to talk about on Monday morning. You see, one thing that Michael wasn't, was boring.

Farewell Michael, gosh I'll miss you.

This could be heaven or this could be Rhyl

2006-09-25T20:29:00.000Z

No particular reason for the title of this post, other than I thought of it on the way home and found it vaguely amusing.

Talking to a contact at the client today, she spoke of her former employer, another rather well known utilities company, saying "You must have seen all the stuff in the news about all that." "No," I replied "world news simply does not interest me any more. In fact, there is just one headline I've been following lately and that's Richard Hammond."

(Before I continue, can I ask you please donate to Hammy's Heli, if you can. Worthy cause.)

She laughed and I said "It's sad really, the world is blowing itself to bits, our Prime Minister is crap and I have no interest in it whatsoever." She said everywhere was bombing everywhere else and there was absolutely nothing we can do about it.

But is it wrong I have a degree of ennui about world affairs? Its a bit like environmental issues. Have you noticed recently that there are no less than 4 camps? There's the "Trying Hard To Do Something About It" camp, the "Couldn't Care Less And Where Did I Park the 4X4" camp, the "Global Warming Doesn't Exist" camp and, more worryingly, the "The World Is Coming To An End and This Just Speeds Up The Process" camp.

Okay, so I whinge as much as the next person when I think the government has made a rubbish decision. However, I only do so if I can see a better idea. And only if I feel it's going to affect me, or my Belief, personally. So I may get a little uncomfortable when 'Religous Hate Speech' Bills go through parliament (thankfully, nothing has really been really passed into law. Suprised with my attitude? Ha, that's for another time). Wind Farms? Show me a better solution I may take an interest. They're quite pretty actually and liven up Rhyl and Prestatyn. It's when stuff gets close to home that I care. I've been a fan of Top Gear along with the SOH for years now, and when someone with obvious guts and a sense of fun, and makes me laugh, has a brush with death I feel I have to pray.

Sad, really, when there are lives being lost every day and you pray for one person that, in the scheme of world politics, doesn't really matter. Perhaps I should pray about that too.

Perhaps living one day to the next is what is important, and to try and make a difference in stuff around me, people around me. Doing the best I can, and being 100% of what I am. Being Real. It's all I ever wanted to be. At least I made one person laugh today, and kicked a bit of bottom at work. If only I could be as that effective in the world.

weemee

2006-08-20T21:03:00.000Z

Looks nothing like me. The lack of dress sense is about right.

Give us a '9

2006-08-16T11:38:00.000Z

Over and out

When I was about 16, my dad acquired a CB radio to play about with. He was an electronic engineer, but it was more than a job, it was a hobby. He rigged up a voice operated microphone on his crash helmet and got me to try and speak to him on his drive off somewhere in the suburbs of SW London, to see if it worked.

We had picked a channel that was quiet, but what we didn't know is that it was a channel that got kicking late in the afternoon with a network of people from Richmond Hill into the far reaches of Surrey. The first to switch his rig on called himself 'Desperate Dan' and he lived on Richmond Hill.

Within 20 minutes of first trying to speak to my dad, there were at least a dozen people trying to speak to the guy on Richmond Hill, as he had a good rig and a large aerial. Me, with my cheap little rig and small loft aerial, could not hear most of them, and I was a weak signal or 'no copy' to them. Of course, the channel got well chaotic and I couldn't even speak to my dad.

Eventually, my dad got to his location, but I stayed on and talked to all that I could. I met 'Black Swan', 'Redstripe', 'Amber Gambler', 'Spirit', 'Wildmouse', 'Crazy Camel' among others. So began my relationship with this 'night light' which lasted about 2 years. I eventually adopted a 'handle' for myself - I was 'French Connection' of Strawberry Hill. (No, I do not drive cars like a maniac and I don't do hard drugs. Somehow though, like the nic 'honestfi' it seems to suit me somehow - you had to be there) The relationship with the 40 red channels was rocky at best, and I think the main reason why I stopped using it was because of a couple of nasty incidents of verbal abuse and there came a time I was regretting the day that I first picked up the mic.

CB was waning in popularity then, and now there are only 20,000 odd license holders (though probably just as many unlicensed), and we now have the internet and chat rooms and it is nothing to speak to someone in Florida whereas this would have been an achievement on CB. However, you can pretend to be somone you are not on the internet, e.g. a 7 year old girl when in fact you're a 40 year old man...dashed difficult on CB. And although you can just about keep your exact location a secret on the internet, (though the determined can find out) as your 'copy' on the CB was doubtless less than 10 miles away, he could leap into his car, track you by looking at the signal when you spoke, until eventually he would 'key up' right outside your door, blasting your speaker and causing the meter needle to click loudly to 'n stop.

Reading the article at the BBC, and the positive comments underneath it, brought back a flood of memories, and I am able to forget the heartache and reflect on the happier times.

'Wildmouse' and his mate Jamie finding out where I lived and driving their cars down our road shouting "Chrrrrroooome!" (quiet location, and I think the neighbours must have had apoplexy!)
Developing my first, serious crush on another 'breaker' and the long long long long walk we had on our 'eyeball' (I think it was about 10 miles!). Sadly, the love I thought I felt was not reciprocated. I wonder where he is now?
The thrill late at night of copying someone in Canary Wharf!
The sweet offers of friendship, maybe more, from various guys, rather desperate for a girl methinks, but an important part of life when you're turning seventeen
In fact I think there was one who held a candle for me, but never asked. Seems that boys have the same trouble as girls in expressing their feelings sometimes. If he had asked....well....I think given the circumstances at the time, I would probably have said yes
The conversations with the 'old boy' network, who, despite the difference in age, welcomed me into their talks and never left me out.

I realise all this, and more, contributed into me turning from an adolescent into an adult and certainly boosted my confidence - I was a 'mouse' that barely spoke but I started to become a little more forthright and less introverted. So. Happy Birthday, CB Radio, and may you have many more, even if you are isolated to Age Concern - and such a brilliant way to earn your keep.

There is one more, precious reason that CB Radio will always have a special place in my heart and memories.

A few years after their first meeting, 'French Connection' married 'Desperate Dan'.

Friends are lights and lights are friends

2006-08-15T18:00:00.000Z

I'm your only friend
I'm not your only friend but I'm a little glowing friend
but really I'm not actually your friend
but I am

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
who watches over you
make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it:say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
make a little birdhouse in your soul

Digging in the dirt

2006-08-11T08:05:00.000Z

Perhaps the most refreshing thing about this job vacancy is its absolute honesty.

Gimme vision

2006-08-06T17:31:00.000Z

I've come to the conclusion that my life is out of control recently, or at the very least I'm no longer at the rudder.

I spent a rather melancholy Friday afternoon, busy as usual, but fuming that my 'beloved' company has yet again said one thing and done another. Oh...I so want out of there.

I had a glimmer, just the beginnings of thoughts in my head Saturday night that there may be a way out. I quite probably need devine intervention to get me out of the gutter of my own making, but I just know I'm better than this and need to clean up my life rather than just....functioning.

I posted a song on Song Meanings over the weekend. It was Nik Kershaw's Human Racing.

Look behind you, there's the man you're chasing
Look behind you - Let's go Human Racing

It wasn't until today that I realised that this is exactly what I'm doing. Chasing a dream that is of this world, only to find I have plenty of competitors, some of which I believe better than me chasing the same dream and believing that I have the best chance - they either bide their time, or just wait to stab me in the back.

Here's the killer lion though - it's only me that can make the change. It's wrong to say that I've ever swum against the tide. I don't exactly go with the flow either, I just drift idly along in the current, rather than swimming to the shore, and look at the poor mugs fighting it out whilst I have a cup of tea and a marmite sandwich. This is, of course, what I want. Do I want promotion? Hmmm...maybe. Do I want to advance my career? Maybe. Do I still more want to make a difference in someone's life so that, even if I sit back with perhaps the odd pang of jealousy, I have at least stored that one special gem that is not of this world, but of another? You betcha. But I have to change first.

Perhaps I'm scared of change, but whilst the world is moving towards self destruction, and the people in it are dismantling themselves along with it, it is me who has to say - STOP. There must be something better than this. I have plenty of ideas, and plenty of intelligence. It may be stupid to say I will start tomorrow - tomorrow brings another week of work in a company I've lost faith in and I'll just be too darn busy to worry about my future, I'll be busy concerned with making sure that as few people phone up on pay day as possible.

OK - here's my one, important, resolution that is far above the others that I may have made. Set myself 5 minutes a day to think about/do something else other than work or pleasure. Maybe it will extend to an hour before the end of the year, but I have a feeling that something big is going to happen if I just start to make the changes.

Go on...you know you want to...

2006-08-02T13:04:00.000Z

I've said it before - I sometimes like to click 'Next Blog' to find out if there is anything interesting going on today in the world of Blogger.

I don't knock it - I have picked up a few blogs this way, including VeryBored's and Fainthearted. After a session of 'Next Blog' during a quiet lunch hour (extremely rare) I've picked up a few that may well end up in my rather sad looking blog list (I'm fussy, OK....OK...lazy...) But clicking next blog can be quite an amusing/frustrating/educating/annoying (delete as applicable) experience.

Now...I know this blog will never win awards. It is quite simple (trendy people would say 'boring'), I have not tried to promote it in any big fashion and I'm not presenting a concept that is original in any way. I do this mainly for my own benefit, though it is great that Ian, Oli and VVB occasionally give a bit of encouragement or amusement just to let me know I am not just talking to myself.

But oh boy, the people that try out there. There should be awards for them, the Soldiers of Blog. They are so trying to be original, but do they know they are clamouring for the mere 18% of the net that actually gets read. How about my own set of awards...all found by clicking Next Blog for a few minutes.

The Snazzy but incomprehensible Blog Award - crazyy-loner

The This Is The Beginning Of Something Big But You Know Its Not Going To Last More Than A Couple Of Posts Award - thetrueself - sounds somewhat intriguing and I'm almost routing for them to keep going actually

The Doom Laden But No-One Knows What They're On About And Probably Don't Care Award - panopticon

The OK It's Foreign But We All Know What She's On About - The Teenage Story Award - macavity123 - Note that the titles are in English...

This is just a few. Go on...try it. It must be better than writing about what you're having for lunch.

The boy's a bit special

2006-07-05T14:56:00.000Z

Some years ago, when I first got into lawn tennis (watching, not playing) I saw a teenager with long, dreadlocked hair sticking out of a baseball cap with huge baggy shorts re-write some of the rules of tennis.

The older generation scoffed at his scruffiness. The girls swooned. The tennis pundits said that a player that works mainly from the baseline would never get anywhere, and besides, he was sporting an upper thigh injury.

Tennis had been dominated by the hard hitters - it was all a matter of whether you could return a 140 mph serve (unlikely) or whether your second serve was better than your opponents, as invariably the serve was built for speed rather than accuracy. The young man, along with a new generation, got players realising that, if you stayed near the baseline, you not only had more chance of getting that serve back, you gave their fore and backhand techniques a workout into the bargain.

The players did not expect that - and Andre Agassi went on to win Wimbledon that year.

Andre played his last Wimbledon this year, bowing out to the world number 2 on Saturday. He has dropped the cap and baggy shorts and now shaves his head as he has a...er-hem...receding hairline. He got a standing ovation. The boy was a bit special.

At long last, we have a British hope (though the Scots are insisting he is theirs. He had only dropped one set on his way to the fourth round....and then he fell to pieces. Why? Was it the heat? Was it the lack of experience? Or was it the fact that, as England had been sent home from the World Cup, too much media attention was directed at him and he crumpled under the pressure?

It was probably a mixture of all three. As much as we would love to blame the media for the woes of British sport, we are as much to blame for buying into it.

Andy Murray is unlikely to change the face of tennis as Agassi did. But he does play a lot better than Henman did at that age, and don't forget he has already won a tournament and better still - has even got Roger Federer (current world no 1) impressed. Another boy I watched in the early days who was a bit special. Murray has the shots, the tactics and can read his opponents tactics quickly, and importantly, early on in the match. Henman is painful to watch. Murray at his best will leave you gasping with delight. Yeah, I'm patriotic, but I prefer to watch talent, rather than seeing Union Flags.

I'm wrong about a lot of things. When I watched Agassi and Federer in their youth, I knew they would go on to greater heights. I never had that feeling with Henman. I do with Murray. The boy's a bit special. A British World number one? Quite likely I say.

Ab-ber-gell-lerrr

2006-05-31T13:16:00.000Z

Now I've lived here a bit I've become a bit more sensitive to pronunciation of various Welsh words.

Abergele is pronounced by the English (and most Welsh come to think of it) as Ab-ber-gellee. However, the Welsh way takes into account that only two letters of the Welsh alphabet can change the way they are said - y and w - and then under only certain circumstances.

Being a playful soul, I like to interchange between the two pronunciations of Abergele as I see fit. (Except in my other half's hearing) I frequently do this when on the phone to some call centre, the operator asks me first to spell 'Pensarn'...and then 'Abergele'...and just to give them icing on the cake I like to say Clwyd (cloo-id) rather than Conwy. I spose its my revenge for the time that a guy from Wales stated his address as 'Pryswylfa' and almost caused a circuit in my brain to explode as he tried to spell it.

The local news, if read by a Welsh person, always always always pronounce it Ab-ber-gell-ler. Somehow it doesn't sound as pretty as Ab-ber-gell-lee, but as it means 'mouth of the river Gele' I suppose I should try and be more careful and say it right. After all, I'm sure scousers would be a little affronted if we called it Lyverpool. Or maybe there are just so many of them in North Wales they don't give a stuff. And maybe I shouldn't either, considering that they also give Rhyl a lovely pretty ring 'rrrrrril' (i.e. barely pronouncing the l) and Rhyl sure ain't pretty (not just yet, maybe a few million quids will make a difference. Didn't do Jackie Stallone any good though. miaow.)

Lastly. Why is it Cymru is pronounced cum-ree, but cynt pronounced kint? You decide.

Oh the adverts are taking the...

2006-05-17T16:41:00.000Z

So I slag off tourists.

What do the adverts do?

Only go and offer Welsh holiday homes.

yeesh.

Oh gosh super the tourists are back

2006-05-05T12:44:00.000Z

The sun comes out and the tourists are back and so here we are set for another 5 or 6 months of putting up with them.

I'm pretty fortunate as I live in an area which is not very touristy, mainly because there is nothing there and partly because Pensarn has got a bad rap. Suits me fine, though it doesn't stop some of them. My favourite cafe, Pantri Bach, is absolutely jam packed in and out with people lingering over a single cup of coffee and an ice cream sundae. Some of them have started to realise how quiet Pensarn beach is during the day, and the fact they can park their car there, and, despite the pebbles and the kamikaze seagulls, know that the air is (fairly) fresh, the sea is blue and the view to Great Ormes Head and the windmills is terrific.

Oh yeah, the windmills. The naysayers amongst the local populous state that local tourism will be ruined by them. Frankly, I can't see how, as the job has already been sorted by Rhyl, which should actually rename itself to 'Rubble'. A few million quid chucked at it, and will probably not be finished before the summer of 2007. Npower Renewables have already sent their machines, resembling something out of a John Christopher novel, out into the oceans, and you can watch in utter fascination/boredom/incredulity (delete as applicable), as it moves back and forth over the skyline. The Npower Tripods Are Coming....The Npower Tripods Are Here...gosh npower will be running Britain before long, doubtless sending radioactive waves through our 'lekky supplies so that we are all subservient to them. I think not. Worst things happen at sea, ha ha. If someone can convince me that the windmills will do more harm than good, and they don't stick one on my roof, I'm not going to complain, and if it sends a few more into Pontins, or even Spain, then all the better.

Back to tourists. If they are not packing out the favourite haunts of the locals, they are hanging around the supermarkets, looking at every single item on every single shelf, as if there isn't a similar establishment where they come from, and eventually buying 10 for 2 offers and 'Value' items, knowing darn well (deep down) that they will survive on burgers, fish and chips and Chinese takeaways and all this lot will end up dumped in the wheely bins at the caravan site. AND they have the cheek to quibble at the till if they are overpriced by so much as a green grape (special offer, 99p). I bet they don't act like that when they're at home.

I pity them in Snowdonia, where the nicer places are (with very nice prices). Its no wonder a lot of the locals stick to Welsh for the summer. It gives them an excuse to ignore them. Me, I stick to my farm shop where I know I am getting fresh, local, produce. This is what the Welsh really rely on, but the tourists don't buy it because they think it is too expensive. It is, compared to the supermarkets, who shaft the farmers at a penny per pound (or somewhere close).

(sigh) Roll on the beautiful month of October, and let me hibernate for a while with occasional trips to where the tourists don't go in Llansannan and Meliden. I'm planning to go into mid Wales for a few days in my couple of weeks off later, but you can betcha we won't be going where the tourists go. I prefer to find the reality of places rather than the fluff, to hear the sheep bleating and to hear the grass growing.

No, I'm not about to burst into a rendition of 'Land of My Fathers', but this area beats SW London hands down. And I try my darndest not to act like a tourist wherever I go.

Health and Beauty Magazines Make You Fat

2006-05-03T16:20:00.000Z

Yep. Forget chocolate bars, potatoes and pasta, health and beauty magazines are the reason there are so many obese women in this country.

NO - get your finger off that comments button. I am not 'fattist'. I'm pretty big myself.

It can't be just me who, when reading one of these magazines which are claiming to 'inspire' reaches for the nearest Mars Bar? Or two?

What is still more depressing is that you know, deep down, that 90% of these 'inspiring women' are going to gain back all they lost...with extras.

If you are healthy, happy and sane and do not mind being fat, just stay away from these magazines, particularly from articles such as 'I Didn't Want to be a Hippo at My Wedding'. I feel like sending them hate mail. You can look fabulous in a wedding dress if you pick the right one, no matter what size you are. Get your head sorted out.

If, however, you do hate your weight, go ahead and try. Forget Atkins, eat as much as you like but NO FAT. It works. You have to deprive yourself of a lot of things that taste nice (reason why I haven't lost a lot) but it does work.

Forget fads, forget smug women who will be just as heavy in 12 months. Be yourself. Choose Freedom to be who you are.

You've got to have a dream

2006-04-29T21:32:00.000Z

Oh gosh been a long time hasn't it. Guess that all work and no play has made Jack (or Jill) very dull indeed.

A lot could be said for dreams.

"If you don't have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true?"
"I have a dream today"
"Don't push too hard your dreams are china in your hand"

How true the last one became of late. A dream of mine shattered by my own hand.

I won't go into details, but the moment it happened the world seemed desolate and futureless. Then, shortly afterwards, as now, I realised that the dream would have meant a lot of sacrifice and maybe seeing a lot less of that which is very important to me; home and hubby.

The dream could come true yet, but it would take a while to materialise and I've probably alienated the person fighting my corner. I think they will talk to me again, maybe they will see it as just bad luck...or maybe they will think I'm a total fool to throw it away as simply as I did.

I have to talk abstractly. Maybe next year, when enough time has passed, with time to heal, and memories have a chance to fade a little, I will state more in depth about what happened.

Meantime, I have to find another dream....ah but I do have plenty on the shelf. :)

Excellent site

2006-02-11T17:54:00.000Z

I wouldn't say that I'm miserable in my job, lets just say that I feel that I'm starting to stagnate and want to move on. I wondered whether I could do anything other than payroll, which I have been doing for nearly 20 years.

I did the fun test. Here is something a lot, lot better.

Its a shame that you have to pay to see your top 10 ideal careers, and it is a yankie site as well (so the top 10 may have different names/values here in the UK), but it is incredibly accurate. When I read the basic assessment after doing the test (persevere, it takes around 15 minutes but it is worth it) I thought, wow, that is me to a tee.

Still, the guy who designed the software is the one who is no doubt selling it, so his career is well mapped out. I was (almost) tempted to buy it. But what it has done, at least, is to see me for what I really am at work.

Apostrophe Apostacy

2006-02-06T13:23:00.000Z

Those that read and have read my writing know that my grammar ain't so good.

I don't realise until its pointed out to me, and even then I don't always understand.

An old English teacher had fits of giggles with one piece I did. "You kept going in and out of the past tense" she said, "It was incredibly confusing and amusing - all at the same time"

And I frequently use 'of' when I should use 'have'. Such times I just throw my hands up in surrender and think - well as long as I use good grammar on official stuff, or that there is someone on hand to make sure that I don't contradict myself, if I am understandable, there should be no problem.

But there is just one thing...

just one thing...

oops sorry, got caught up Eurythmics-style there. There is just one bit of bad grammar that really really really really REALLY bugs me, big time. That is using apostrophes in the wrong place and at the wrong time. (That, and confusing their, there and they're)

Glory hallelujah. There is someone that also cringes when they see signs such as "Hot Cross Bun's". She's right here.

Why does it make me cringe? Because I learnt how to use the apostrophe at 7. Since 7 year olds cannot work legally, those over 16 have no excuse.

There is one who considers that we should rid ourselves of the apostrophe altogether. Like here. Hang on though - isn't this just laziness? I mean, if I removed all the apostrophes out of this one post alone, I reckon it would be near unintelligible. Text messages and e-mails apparently, make the apostrophe obsolete, as common usage is kicking the poor punctuation mark into touch. OK, whilst we're at it, lets get rid of the full stop, comma and semi-colon and get breathless when we read the stuff that are written by 17 year olds who are meant to be fully literate.

Anyway, my English teachers, bosses and myself would have nothing to moan about.

Resolution by Proxy

2006-01-01T15:29:00.000Z

Haven't quite got round to resolution 1 yet, but the SOH said to me the other day he was going to give up. I have not seem him put a cigarette to his lips today. He hasn't said a word to me about it, but I know it is his way of telling me, wordlessly, that he is serious.

This is good news. It should encourage me.

I don't usually do this kind of thing

2005-12-31T20:46:00.001Z

I don't make New Year's resolutions. Well not normally anyway. I make so many promises during the year which I break, what is the point of using a new year as an excuse? However, two things have made me change my mind this year. One, I'm in a new location, and, excuse the slightly soppy moment, is the place that I have been waiting my whole life to live in, before I even knew it existed. It sorta makes me feel I need to pay back something, in some way. Two, as this is an online, permanent diary which I can't lose, burn, deface or otherwise destroy (without hitting the dreaded delete button) I can come back on 31 December 2006 to see how I did.

1. Give up smoking. The old favourite. However, I think within a few years its gonna be illegal to inflict such harm on yourself, let alone other people. May as well pre-empt that.

2. Learn Welsh. Already started that one. Don't ask me why, but a good reason seems to be that a lot of jobs seem to depend on you being bi-lingual. Why, when probably 90%+ of the time they speak English is likely something they don't even know. But I don't want to be accused of being party to a murder. Even if it is of a language. And I may do that simply by learning it. We'll see.

3. Not to blow my top when the SOH buys yet another radio. He has to have something to keep him occupied.

4. Get another job. Since an ex-employee got severely reprimanded for slagging off his employer on a blog, I'm not going to comment further, let alone give you the name of the company. I think the resolution says it all.

5. Try and find another hobby other than spending too much time playing "The Waitress" and "Theme Hospital" There's more to life to Omelettes and Bloaty Head.

6. Learn to write short stories. A previous boss says I have a talent for writing. Well, let's develop it. If the rest of the world agrees, resolution 4 is sorted. If not, at least I can say I tried.

7. Get my driving license updated. One thing I haven't done. Since I have to change from paper to card license, this means braving the photo booth. After having a good laugh at the SOH's photos today, I think I owe him that, even though I don't drive any more.

That'll do. If I think of any more they'll be here tomorrow.

Kill your common sense.

2005-12-28T16:42:00.000Z

There is a quite disturbing advert on the radio, its been running for some months now. It's an anti-speed advert ending with a little kiddie's voice saying "Hit me at 40 miles per hour and there is an 80 per cent chance I will die, hit me at 30 miles per hour and there is an 80 per cent chance I will live"

Have you noticed the increase in such adverts, in varying degrees of gruesomeness? The ones that you see late at night really make your skin crawl and are invariably more ghastly than the late night horror that you decided might be a bit of a laugh.

I haven't driven in about 10 years. I did hit someone once when I did drive - at about 5 miles per hour. I have been hit myself - again at about 5 miles per hour. The fault, in both cases, I am free to admit, was with the pedestrian not looking where the heck he/I was going.

So someone please tell me what has happened to the Green Cross Code? (Why a cross, and why green, has escaped me). No longer do you see kids lining up nicely at the kerbside (the edge of their brogues just touching the kerbstone). Looking first to the left, then to the right, then back to the left again, listening (with the cupped hand to the ear) and then walking neatly across, looking and listening the whole time.

OK so it never did happen that way.

However, even in my street, in the backroads of Twickenham I would never ever cross the road without at least looking first (the time I got hit I was on my way home from school and just was not thinking straight)

Many deaths could be prevented by schools and parents teaching their kids the funduhmentals of crossing the road. There are of course many exceptions. Only a complete idiot would drive over 25 mph down a road which contained a school at 3.30pm on a weekday. But I'd love to see them try with the amount of parents, with Landrovers, on the school run. Oh that's another rant for another day.

So how about an advert aimed at kids in a similarly gruesome manner? Take care in crossing the road or you will probably DIE.

Extreme, but it might work.

Doctor - Allriiighty then

2005-12-26T16:04:00.000Z

Did anyone else notice that David Tennant's performance last night bore more than a passing resemblance to Jim Carrey?

Hey ho it had to happen some time

2005-12-18T14:22:00.000Z

Those that know us well know that we aren't very good at staying in touch. In fact, I used to squirm during a particular telephone company add starring Bob Hoskins as it seemed he used to stare straight at us whilst growling "Its good to talk" - and I would think of the people that I promised to stay in touch with and it was up to them to send Christmas cards. And it was rare we would send any back because by the time we got round to it, it was Christmas Eve.

I am actually quite organised this year. I'm posting our cards tomorrow, which for us is a result. I have already received the cards from the people that I expected and they are naturally receiving one in return...but there is an interloper on our mantelpiece.

It arrived yesterday. It was addressed to both of us and the greeting was with both of our names. It was signed by what could either be initials or a two-letter nickname. Neither of us know who it is.

This is gonna bug us all Christmas. They know that we have recently moved from London to North Wales as they wish us all the best in our new life and are happy that we are enjoying it. Its no good asking us to check the postal mark. The post office must have had a 'bad ink day'.

Now it is obviously from someone who admonished that we should stay in touch, or someone that we extended a warm feeling of hospitality. We don't have many friends. We aren't anti-social, its just we don't get out much.

So...thank you...whoever you are. You probably won't read this as you probably don't know I have a blog. But peradventure you do, can I just state that if I could remember who the heck you are you would get a card back. So here is a virtual Christmas card just for you - the unknown Christmas card on the mantelpiece.

You are what you eat

2005-10-26T12:11:00.000Z

I was going to provide a link to this post, but if you need a little background, go to http://news.bbc.co.uk and type in "Jamie Oliver" in the search engine.

Our Jamie has recently been involved in a campaign to improve school dinners, which had basically turned into turkey twizzlers and chips. I remember on the TV the other day that there was an item on a school that had taken some of his advice and had started serving up "proper food", and the parents had been invited to watch. Apparently, the sale of school dinners had begun to decline (well, in that particular school anyway) as some of the pupils had refused to eat it, and were starting to bring in packed lunches. One disgruntled father stated words to the effect that it was a waste of time serving up food that kids won't eat, whilst looking at his son who was going as green as the broccoli he was looking at.

This tells me one very important fact - they are being served crap at home as well as at school.

Their parents were probably brought up on a diet very similar to mine. I ate school dinners (although secondary school did tend to provide chips with everything). At home, I was fed a good, square, lunchtime meal at weekends or during holidays. Chips, burgers and fish fingers were rare - only cooked very occasionally. I had a roast dinner on Sundays. Sometimes we had fish and chips and if I was very good, a share of my father's chinese spare ribs and chow mein on Fridays. As I started to earn more pocket money, inevitably I bought a lot of crisps, chocolate and fizzy drinks and my physique tells the tale of this. However, despite the rather high fat content, because my diet was basically balanced I am basically healthy. (The high cholesterol in my youth probably contributed to the fact my gall bladder was removed last year - though this can happen to anyone).

In one of his books, Jamie once bemoaned the number of mums he saw in supermarkets with trollies piled high with frozen crap food. He stated that he wished he could kidnap the kids and feed them a proper meal at home. The mums seem to have several excuses:

"They won't eat anything else" - Rubbish. I ate 'proper' food as a kid, and if I could eat it, AND enjoy it, so could they. The fact is, you've never tried, or never put in the effort to make healthy food interesting. Kids love spaghetti bolognese, which although not the epitomy of healthy food, can be balanced, can be made low fat AND is easy to make.

"I don't have time, I work during the day" - Look, I work too. I don't have kids and I admit I am one of the laziest cooks there are. If something takes more than 10 minutes preparation time in the kitchen I get cheesed off (pardon the near pun). I am very much a 'leave it simmering on the hob' or 'slam it in the oven and forget about it' cook whilst I go off and do something else. You're too busy watching Eastenders. You've got a video recorder, watch it later.

"I can't cook" - I got E in Home Economics. Not E for Effort, E for 'Extra Incompitent'. I learnt from an a basic cook book. If you can boil an egg without burning it, you can cook. All the recipes I learnt off by heart take about 5 minutes in prep and I can go and play 'Theme Hospital' on my puta until ~~I smell burning~~ er hem...its cooked.

I get just as peed off as Jamie when I see them in the supermarket, we're breeding a generation of unhealthy youngsters who will probably die before their time. Maybe it will be seen as another weird way of 'protecting our future' - there won't be one.

Darn shame

2005-10-18T12:22:00.000Z

Your Career Type: Conventional

You are orderly and good at following a set plan.
Your talents lie in working with written records and numbers in a systematic, orderly way.

You would make an excellent:

Bank Teller - Bookkeeper - Court Clerk
Mail Carrier - Post Office Clerk - Secretary
Timekeeper - Title Examiner - Typist

The worst career options for your are artistic careers, like comedian or dancer.

What's Your Ideal Career?

Just when I was thinking of a new career..I'm a mixture of all three suggestions...rats.

The End of the World is Nigh (Closing Down Sale)

2005-10-17T11:38:00.000Z

Oh yes. A suitably dour post for a Blue Monday (and being a purist, I like the original)

Before you shout, 'Hey Fi, aren't you breaking your 9th commandment (thou shalt not Bible bash)?' and scarper, hear me out before you sod offski.

Whether you be a God-fearing believer or philosophical atheist, can you really say that the world can only get better?

What have we got...hmmm...
1. Terrorists blowing themselves up at random moments and locations
2. A non existant ozone layer
3. Trigger happy presidents who think they're God
4. A Middle East just spoiling for a fight
5. Diseases generic to animals hopping over to humans for a party
6. Dormant volcanoes threatening to blow up, loudly and destructively...

...I could go on (and I do). However, I think you're getting my point here. It doesn't matter whether you believe all/some/none of Revelations, we ain't gonna last long as a species, not in this life anyway. Frankly, as a believer in Genesis to Revelations, its God's world, He made it, He'll start it all over again.

In Abergele, there's a shoe shop that's got 'Closing Down Sale' emblazoned across the window. Now, nothing unusual there, Fi, you say, shops close down all the time and what's this got to do with the end of the world? The shop has been 'closing down' since before I moved in. In fact, I distinctly remember when we came here on holiday in late Feb that he was closing down then.

It made me think the End of the World is a bit like that. You never know when the last bang will happen. And one day, the guy in Abergele *will* close down, and probably no-one will notice. I think everyone will notice the End of the World. Oh no they won't, they'll be dead or 'elsewhere'.

Me and the SOH started dreaming up all sorts of strange reasons as to why the shoe shop hasn't closed down yet. Of course, we finally settled on the very boring solution (and probably correct), the guy owns the shop and flat above, is retiring or moving on, needs to sell to retire or move on and hasn't sold yet, so is therefore continuing with the shop until it sells.

Of course, there could be a similar reason as to why God hasn't ended the world yet. Perhaps he's waiting for a buyer.

To everything - turn, turn, turn

2005-10-04T06:52:00.000Z

I arrived here late Spring and now Summer has given way to Autumn.

When I was in London, I didn't notice the changing of the seasons very much. In Spring, the mornings were less nippy and on the few patches of green grass that I could see on my way to work, daffodils and crocuses were poking through. Summer - well, the trees got greener and my trip to work was warmer, I could stop wearing my coat and make do with a jacket. Autumn was just like Spring.

Here, though, the seasons are a lot more marked. Acres of sky mean that you can see evening by evening as the sun veers round from its Spring cycle round to the summer. In late Spring, the last of the lambs and the first of the calves are born. Crocuses and daffodils give way to the bright colours of summer and breezes blow on the hilltops. The sea gives off a misty haze caused by the heat - not, obviously, like the Meditterranean heat hazes, but a miniature version that is North Wales' own. As we can see the horizon round 200 degrees or thereabouts, the summer days seem to last longer. Seagulls make the most of the pickings around the beach before they will have to do the best they can when the tourists have gone - like, eat real food for once.

Autumn - well, autumn is just really special. Oh yeah, the trees went brown in London and of course they do here too, although there seems to be a great deal more evergreens than where I lived previously. Autumn is when the rams are released into fields of ewes, who will be lambing between January and March. The swifts, swallows and housemartins have gone now, but out of both my sitting room and workplace window, I watched the youngsters practice their flight skills, ready for an epic journey which they may be blissfully unaware that only a few of them will return from. On Saturday, we went to Llandudno and saw the sea at its most beautiful and threatening; the sea bashing up against the rocks, soaking the fishermen and anyone else caught unawares, telling tales of a storm out in the Irish Sea and warning the coast dwellers to beware of their choice of living so close to nature.

If London makes a footprint on the world, North Wales leaves a fingerprint on your mind. Gentle, personal and always unique.

******** spammers

2005-09-22T15:30:00.000Z

Sorry, as of today, only members of blogspot can post comments and I have the word verification thingy turned on as well.

Sorry that the minority had to spoil it, I prefer a free society myself. If you're a spammer reading this - get a life FGS.

Solliq..solliloo..solliloques..oh bugger it..thoughtful moment..

2005-09-20T12:05:00.000Z

I joined a Webring today - bloggingbrits no less. The most difficult part of filling out the online form was asking me to describe my blog.

What is my blog, apart from the ravings of a mad woman who has made the crazy step of moving from the highlife of London to well north of the Watford gap?

Humour...yes, occasionally, but mostly just ravings, of which I occasionally get feedback (mostly positive) for which I am extremely grateful. It at least makes me suppose that I am not talking to myself, but I'm really good at that, even if I do argue back. In a friendy manner of course.

Actually, my rules are simple:

1. Be myself: There are too many blogs out there where the writers are quite obviously showing off, or making out their life is a soap opera. Lemme tell ya buddy, if you have time to spend an hour in front of a computer talking about your life, *every day* you obviously aren't busy enough.
2. No gimmicks: Hang, on that's a beer advert isn't it? There is absolutely blooming nuffin that would attract my blog to you more than anyone else's.
3. Only blog when I really have something to say: I have a post that is dedicated to just that. I've covered that theory fairly conclusively. I could write utter dingo's kidneys here and you're sitting there thinking "she had time out to write that drivel?"...erm...yeah..but I don't go on about what I had for lunch (in sordid detail) and whose mate is going out with someone else's boy/girlfriend, who you don't know from Adam (or Eve) and unless you turn your blog *into* a soap opera is not exactly going to interest anybody.
4. Keep the post titles interesting: At least then I can be complimented on the title, if not the content. Or slagged off. I don't care.
5. Stay away from foreign politics: Hence "I'll start with my own home thank you". You see, I could have a go at George Bush, but frankly his internal politics have nothing to do with the UK, the UK press generally have a biased opinion about him anyway, and even if they are totally correct as to the content of his character, I ain't a citizen of the US and I think they are best placed to whinge about him.
6. Actually, stay away from most politics: They're all liars and cheats. OK, *mostly* liars and cheats
7. Try and write something humourous every other post at least: I get as depressed as everyone else, no need to make it worse
8. Be myself: Hang on, I've done that one. Still it is an important one, so its better off in here twice, to remind myself, if not you
9. Don't Bible bash: Yeah, I am a Christian, but not a very good one. All the more reason not to.
10. Make the cup of tea STRONG: If it don't remove your stomach lining it ain't worth having.

So, welcome if you're here for the first time.

And as you click away, fare-thee-well and maybe see you another time. Or not. As you please.

Autumn Dawn in Abergele (Haiku)

2005-09-14T06:51:00.000Z

Menacing mountain clouds
Seagulls silouhette
On a pale pink sky

Waving the double standards

2005-08-17T11:57:00.000Z

I'm female. Well, that's what my mum told me anyway, and all the bits seem to be in the right place. I'm telling you, cos there may be a few things I say that will upset many who read this and think I'm a man in a dress.

I was brought up in a fairly chauvinistic household - not the primitive version that we all seem to think of - woman doing all the work and man sitting on his bum on the sofa watching TV and drinking beer - but the old fashioned version - woman is duitiful, pretty, able and willing and the man goes out hunting for food and beats chest in frenzied excitement when he comes home with the booty.

Those days are gone. Thank God, says New Woman. We're heading for two thirds divorce rate says me.

There were three things I heard last night that proves 'Girl Power' is just out of control.

1. Comedy skit on radio. Man is devastated that woman is bound to leave her because she has bought an all-in-1 remote control and so therefore can operate all the electrical equipment at once, leaving man as a useless appendage in the relationship, his previous job being working the video recorder, DVD and Hi-Fi

2. Advertisment on TV. Woman does all the decorating prep in 30 seconds flat (seems like) and smugly sits next to man on sofa who has just sat down with a cup of tea waiting for woman to finish prep.

3. TV House hunting programme. Woman berates man for telling the cameras that she burst into tears because she was so happy that she got the house of her dreams.

OK, these are perhaps weak examples, but the fact that they were all heard in one evening just epitomises the state of the sexes. The trouble with relationships nowadays is that *both* sexes want to wear the trousers and refuse to allow a 'leader' in the relationship. Well, they will, but providing that New woman leads the relationship, because New Man doesn't have a clue.

New Woman refuses to believe the above, but New Woman has been divorced 4 times, what does she know? I have been extremely happily married for 15 years. We guide and help each other - but guess what? - my husband has the last word on major decisions. I tell you what, it leads to a stress-free relationship for me, cos he can do the main worrying about the decsion.

There's a running joke in our relationship. Take a jar which I'm struggling to open whilst cooking dinner. New Woman would try anything - such as the old blade handle round the top trick to release the seal, running under hot water, elastic band round the lid or even the desperate 'taking a sharp implement and giving it the psycho' treatment. Mind you, New Woman rarely cooks does she, or perhaps she may microwave. Me? I walk into the living room, hold out the offending jar to my SOH and say "Bloke.". "Bloke" then opens jar with ease and hands it back with a smug look on his face. I tell you what, it saves so much sweat, nails and aggravation I recommend it to anyone, because:

1. It makes the SOH feel loved and wanted and this type of thing re-awakes the Tarzan attitude in all of them and
2. It gets my ruddy jar open and I can get on with my life

Both in the relationship are happy. You can apply the "Bloke" principle in many areas of married life, and I wonder why my marriage has lasted longer than New Woman's?

Down with Girl Power. Lets get with love and respect.

Ow..ow...oww

2005-08-08T07:49:00.000Z

I've suffered all sorts of pain in my life. I have not, as yet, experienced a broken bone but I have twisted both of my ankles, suffered from a trapped nerve in the base of my spine, had chest pain, earaches, migraines even gone through the horrible trauma of gallstones moving in the bile duct and the pain that creates is indescribable.

However, they all pale into insignificance when compared with toothache.

I haven't been the best at looking after my teeth, but so a dentist once told me, once a tooth is filled - that's *it* - you will forever be getting toothache with that one tooth alone, once every 5-10 years or so, as the tooth decays around the filling leaving you in danger of an infection in the hole it makes. Yuk.

I get toothache every couple of years. The latest is a humdinger comparable to the pain you get when you have an infection in the gum (yep, had that too). The dentist dug out the filling of the offending tooth, filled it in again (and topped it with white stuff which I've never had done before) and informed me that the tooth was approaching the point where it could be repaired no more. Apparently, the tooth had collapsed and the gum had started to grow in and around it, hence the pain.

And because of the vibration and teeth grinding at night, I have suffered pain of epic proportions for the last 6 days. I should go back to the dentist, but I have this other problem - a tooth that should be crowned but I can't make up my mind.

I am not scared of dentists - I have been in and out of dentists since I was around 9 years old, when I had 28 adult teeth and my wisdom teeth were starting to come through. The overcrowding in my jaw meant that 4 teeth had to be removed and braces put in my teeth (the ones that you can remove, not the horrible welded in ones which make you look like Jaws from James Bond). No, perhaps the most painful part is paying the bill, which, although I can claim back 75% from my insurance still makes me gulp like reacting to the taste clove oil which has accidentally slipped down the gullet.

Still - that's why we're driving around a Citroen BX and he drives a Mazda soft top.

Old as the person you feel...or something...

2005-07-29T11:58:00.000Z

I'm 35 in three weeks.

S'funny cos I don't feel 35. And the person I'm feeling ain't 35 either. I read somewhere years ago of a pop star who attained the age 35 and said he was now, officially 'middle-aged'

I don't feel that either.

As you grow older you think of life as something like:

Baby - don't know anything
Child - knows a bit, but uses the fact that adults think that s/he's only a child and wouldn't know (like heck)
Teenager - Knows it all
Young adult - Its scary out here when there's so much I should know and nothing I learnt at school helps
Middleaged - Well its too late now to know anything, I ask my mum/dad to fill in the gaps. Or my colleagues. Or my 5 year old son
Grey - A few brain cells have dropped out, but I know more than they think

I won't say how old my better half is, I'll just say he's a bit older than me. He started to go backwards on the list when he hit middleaged and is hovering between 'young adult' and 'child' (Teenagers scare him, so he's skipped that generation). Its great cos he makes me feel young and I don't think I've aged a year since I first met him, aged 16.

I'm sure someone said to me years ago that you've been middleaged since you were about 5. Actually, I think this is probably true of a lot of girls, they take life soooo seriously sometimes. Crack a joke about their crow's feet ("hey, you could always make a feature out of them with papier mache") and they look at you as if you've just burnt their house down.

My hair is starting to grey, but its been doing that since my late teens, I have a stressful job. I'm getting a few wrinkles but if people can't take me wrinkles and all, and not see the person I am inside (friendly but sometimes volatile) then they can go and find other friends. Or enemies.

I'm gonna carry on believing that I'm 17 with the mind of a 35 year old. Or maybe the body of a 35 year old with the mind of the girl of 17.

That's better.

Pass the happy pills please, no the orange ones...

2005-07-23T21:11:00.000Z

I've realised that glancing over my page of posts that I've been doom, gloom and depression for too long and that ain't in keeping with a blog that was meant to be humourous.

Still, I've heard tell that writers do best with stuff that's on their heart don't they? So I've bared my soul to a PC and maybe 6 people on the net (on a good day) and do I feel any better?

Do I heck. I lose myself in my work and my love life and I am, for the most part, extremely content with my lot. Or should that be little?

The way people are nowadays reminds me of that reggae-pop-hit-that-wasn't-a-pop-hit-but-everyone-thinks-should-have-darn-well-been-a-pop-hit "Radio Africa". You must know the one "I'm hearing only bad news (on Radio Africa)". Seems like I hear bad news on not just Radio Africa, but Radio USA, Radio Europe, Radio Australia, suicide rates are up, the environment cart is going to hell and we're strapped to the rear axle.

There's great uncertainty at my workplace as well and morale is down, and I think that's true of most workforces.

Don't Worry, Be Happy a great philosopher once sang.

No - I'm not going to forget about the world's troubles and I'm not going to bury my head in the sand in the hope that it will all go away. However, I know that as just one person in the huge computer that is the world - I ain't gonna make a whole lotta difference to the geology, the economy, the ecology, whatever.

BUT - you can make a big difference in at least ONE person's life today and you don't have to raise a finger. No...

SMILE! The sunshine will follow you around wherever you go.

Outta the frying pan

2005-07-22T07:19:00.000Z

Unless you've been living in the jungle with just a coupla tigers and a shamen whose English is limited to the word 'Coca-Cola', then you'll know that London is under attack.

Bar all conspiracy theories that seems to go with all terrorist bombings, its really strange that I somehow feel more uneasy now, living 250+ miles away than I did when I only lived around 20 miles away. Then, during the IRA's forays, I felt completely disconnected with what was going on in central London.

The one exception was when I was working for a bakery in Twickenham doing payroll for the shops in London and the burbs. There was a shop nearby the NatWest tower, which wasn't normally open on a Saturday, but because the shops outside London were short on bakers due to sickness and holiday, two bakers agreed to come in and do what is commonly called a 'bake off' - baking sausage rolls and bread for the Middlesex and Surrey shops. Two other people, the shop manageress and the area manager, again, who would not normally work on that day, decided to go in and catch up on some paperwork. Before they started, they decided to go to a local cafe and have a cup of tea first.

A little while later, with the bakers still baking and the managers still in the cafe, someone tried to blow up the NatWest tower. The proximity of the bomb meant that the shop window blew inwards, showering the bakers in glass and rendering them incapable of work for a week or three due to shock.

When you pay them, you feel closer to them somehow. I think now, the reason why I feel somehow connected, is my sudden decision to wrench myself away from the place. The umbilical cord is still connected, and why shouldn't it be? Also, I have colleagues in several offices in London, and a colleague here in Wales has a daughter in London, and I feel her concern, particularly as I'm a serial worrier.

God bless every single Londoner today. Travel safe.

Homesick

2005-07-04T12:19:00.000Z

Last Friday night, don't know what caused it, but I started to feel the first signs of homesickness.

I was thinking of the places that I will probably never see again, of the River Thames in particular, especially Twickenham riverside. A part of me, and ghosts of memories haunt areas of my soul and come creeping up during dark nights and tears spring to my eyes with thoughts of what was, and what could have been. I shared a lot of my fears and hopes with that river and my echo is there still. Discussing this with the better half, he told me that if we ever went back, it would be different, even if nothing has changed.

He's so right.

My memories, happy, happy-sad and bitter-sweet memories of the places that I knew in my childhood and early adult years will remain just memories. I cannot relive them and I cannot bring them back. Usually, I had no-one to share those thoughts and feelings with after walking away from the places that I frequented then. I do now - and we have both torn ourselves away from places that we grew up in and have started life afresh in a place that has such outstanding natural beauty, that we can build new memories to share.

We have just had the best weekend since first moving up. We didn't visit anywhere beautiful, but we have started to get our lives together as the house that we chose to live in, in small ways is becoming a home.

Here's to the next 30 years of building homes and memories.

Ghosts

2005-07-01T07:18:00.000Z

Read this thought provoking post from a favourite blog of mine. It certainly made me wonder...are memories, ghosts?

Some are painful, some are heartwarming, some you would rather forget, some you never want to fade. And yet, face them we must and often they taint our perception of situations past - we either improve or play down the ultimate result, depending upon how we want to be remembered when retelling our memories to others.

I have my own theory regarding actual ghosts - and they don't have white sheets and chains (well, not always). But that's for another time.

Memories are ghosts that inhabit our mind and make us what we are.

Englishwoman in North Wales

2005-06-21T12:41:00.000Z

I've been here nearly 3 weeks now and everything is still peachy. Perhaps I'm still in holiday mode and my brain hasn't quite clicked that I will have to suffer the good and the bad that North Wales chucks at me. So far, I've been able to handle it.

One thing that I am starting to understand is the rather tenuous relationship between those resident in North Wales and the tourists.

When I lived in Twickenham there were a few tourists, mainly because of the excellent pubs and the historical nature of nearby towns Kingston and Richmond. They tended to blend in though, dressed for the towns rather than the beach and tended to speak very good English (and sometimes better than the locals). There was no tourism to speak of in the part of Sunbury I lived in, as all it has going for it is the motorway that took me out of there. You did get a lot of European students who would take the same bus to college as the one that took me to work, and, to misquote Adrian Mole, if you closed your eyes you could imagine you were abroad with the way they went on.

It is of course, very very different in a coastal town. Tourists bring in Euros and Dollars and is, so we're told, very good for the economy and Wales needs all the money it can get (along with most of the rest of the UK). But after waiting an hour in our favourite cafe to get fed, along with a few of the aging locals, you can understand why a lot of locals, before the 3rd week in June, are actually praying for October so that they can have a teacake and coffee in peace.

I've heard many stories of English persons visiting Wales, where most of the population can speak perfect English, and walking into a pub have found that the locals abruptly change from speaking in English to Welsh. I have had no such problem and have (for the most part) found the Welsh the friendliest people in the UK. I am undergoing a transition from percieved 'visitor' (shopkeepers a bit abrupt, thinking, 'another tourist to litter the hills and valleys); incomer (shopkeepers a lot more friendly and start smiling - some even ask after your health, cos they realise after 3 weeks you're no longer a tourist, you're working for the good of Wales); perceived permanent resident - this one will take longer and it doesn't help that I sound like Sarah Ferguson. I could either adopt a scouse or Welsh accent but nothing will take away the fact that I was born at the heart of BBC english.

I don't want a dialect, but I'm stuck with one. So I will do the best that I can for where I live, try not to piss anyone off (too much) and respect local knowledge. In other words, act like a resident and not a tourist.

In the mean time, what and ho for jolly ol' blighty.

Road to Rhyl

2005-06-19T14:21:00.000Z

Sung to the tune of Chris Rea's "Road to Hell" (sorta)

Well I'm driving through the country
And my friends all say I'm mad
But I've chosen a diff'rent path to walk on
Even the seagulls take cover
From the wind of the Irish sea
Instead they divebomb the tourists who take to the funfairs
And the average age of the populus
Is about a hundred and three
Have I lost common sense and all reason?
And the chavs all talk in a scouse accent
Oh yeah, this is the road to Rhyl

And all the roads are potholed and narrow
And the car has sprung a leak
It's all payroll and phones to come soon
Look out North Wales, take a look
What comes up here
Hope I learn the lesson fast and learn it well
It's just off the A55 expressway
Oh yeah, this is the road
Said this is the road
This is the road to Rhyl

(No hate mail from Rhylians please. I know a few parts of Rhyl that are very nice and at least the chavs here are friendly, more than can be said for SW London)

Doctor Boo Hoo (Part 2)

2005-06-17T12:16:00.000Z

Now then, tomorrow night Chrisopher Eccleston will become David Tennant, courtesy of the miracles of modern technology, Gallafreyan quirkiness and the fact that Chris handed in his notice some time ago.

I haven't watched many of the DWs, despite my previous post. I was moving to Wales when the second part of the really scary chapter was on (the gas mask one) and I just didn't fancy the two part 'reality TV' chapter, (I've heard enough about the real thing frankly - DW meets Chavalocity) although the second part is obviously where the transformation is to take place (they call it regeneration don't they? Can't remember) Anyway, I may or may not watch it. But I may burst into tears cos I think I've developed a crush on Eccleston.

Or at least, thought I had until I saw the bum fluff he'd grown when I saw him on Top Gear.

So how will it all go? Billie seems to be very good at the confused/bemused look and I can imagine her telling him (after the event) "Why didn't you tell me you can re-generate?" and him replying "Its not exactly a conversation starter, is it? Hello, my name's The Doctor and when I die I regenerate"

Bectchya it'll be words to that effect.

So farewell Chris and welcome David. May you twang many heartstrings and may your elctronic screwdriver always rise to meet you. Or something.

Doctor Boo Hoo

2005-05-15T12:59:00.000Z

I, like millions of others 20 years ago, used to hide behind the sofa whilst Tom Baker or Peter Davidson saved the world from the Daleks on the other side of it.

Now I'm in my thirties, and giggle at the monsters rather than run and hide. Oh for innocence, but it gives me a smile on a Saturday night, and no doubt another generation of teenies are also hiding behind the sofa, cos the monsters are just as scary, if not more so.

But...and this is a big but..

Am I alone in feeling a little perturbed about the way these episodes are going, particularly after last Saturday's?

Don't get me wrong, I will turn into a Doctor Who addict if I'm not careful. Christopher Eccleston certainly fits the part well (although I half expect him to go "why-aye-mun" any minute. I think he's the first DW with a distinctive dialect) and Billy Piper was a pleasant surprise, she don't do bad at all and I have a strange bias with young, pretty, rich and chavvy blondes.

DW has a lot of parallels with James Bond, viz:

1. He isn't real but he's believable
2. He's somewhat invincible, he's died once already this series and come back to life. More than JB ever did.
3. He's actually changed actors more times than James Bond, with a convincing 'reason' for doing so (which JB doesn't)
4. JB has lots of gadgets, DW seems to have only two, but they do THE LOT. (what happened to K9?)
5. He should be played with the tongue firmly in the cheek

Also, the old DW used to show little emotion, and the series used to be full of terms such as 'runckated his murgerflooms into jasterplasts'

The above two are missing. Maybe ditching the latter has made the stories somewhat less ridiculous (if possible), but the former rule violation has made DW human - which he isn't.

The intrusion of emotion is no bad thing, and makes for interesting scope on the storylines. What bothers me most, is the pinch of 'soap opera' the writers have given the storylines, much like we add salt to a delicious stew, forgetting our guests can add as much (or as little) salt they like at the dinner table.

To cap it all, the writers have left a kinda 'willtheywon'tthey' with DW and Rose. Didn't I read somewhere that DW CAN'T, making the thought somewhat farcical, or am I thinking of someone else?

Its the way the episodes refer back to each other, not to previous encounters with weird aliens with pipes and tubes outta impossible orifices, but to relationships. I mean, forget the fact that there were pterydactls outside, the writer was more concerned on tugging on the heartstrings as Rose says 'Daaaaddy!!' there can't have been a dry eye in the house. I'm really surprised that the Reapers didn't stop their flapping and scratching and sit and weep at the beauty of human fraility. DW is about monsters and DW himself saving the world. Instead the dad does the noble thing and commits suicide. Touching, but is this Doctor Who or Amargeddon?

Actually, I can't remember the last time DW actually did anything other than wave his screwdriver about a bit, or the last time he did something really clever, like solve the crime all by himself and get on his trusty steed (or TARDIS) and ride into the sunset?

How times change. In the meantime, pass the tissues please and don't mention Eastenders.

Escape to the country

2005-05-05T11:41:00.000Z

Yes I'm finally doing it. I'm moving to Wales.

Now this might make the Ann Robinsons and Jeremy Clarksons out there close to a coronary, but yes, this southerner has decided that the best thing to be is a northerner, cos I'm moving to just a few miles west of Liverpool.

The dream has been about 2 years in the making, but I've got money down on a plain but comfy flat with sea views. At about half the rent I'm paying in London.

Now some might say that cheaper council tax and rent does not make up for the fact that you're sharing your living space with sheep, rain, leeks, rain, daffodils, rain and more rain.

Actually, it doesn't always rain in Wales. Its like the misconception the yanks have that it always rains in the UK. It just rains a little more often in Wales than it does in southern England. And...get this...when it rains in London, the smell afterwards of wet refuse, concrete and re-hydrated dog's, cat's and human pee does not compare to the smell you get in Wales after it rains. It smells GREEN. You can smell things GROWING. (the sheep, leeks and daffodils probably)

Also the roads down here are so STRAIGHT. After all, the Englanders were taken over by the Romans and they liked things nice and straight and didn't even need a bubble level. Something to do with their chariots not coping. Shoulda invented traction control a couple of thousand years ago. Or maybe not, cos then they woulda invaded Wales and it wouldn't have been the beautiful unspoilt haven it is now, with winding roads better than any roller-coaster. Well that's the way I see it anyhow.

They have mountains that can frighten you and leave you completely awestruck as to their beauty.

Anyway I should round off by saying...don't follow me here...well, not too many of you cos else it'll be crowded and the house prices will be more expensive.

Oh...and I'm going to learn Welsh too. Maybe I'll even start a blog in Welsh.

Grumpy Old Woman (Gimme Shelter)

2005-03-21T08:23:00.000Z

Friday night, I watched a programme on TV which started to make my blood boil. Well, I say "watched"...if playing solitatire on playandwin whilst vaguely glancing over the top of the laptop counts as "watching", I certainly heard every word.

Everyone's a hypocrit, even if they don't admit it. Some people have very strong views and for the most part, even if I don't agree with them, the stronger and more forthright the views, the more I admire them.

Janet Street-Porter is an exception to my rule.

Janet was accosted by a beggar at an ATM, and she told them exactly what she thought - that basically this person was a sponger off hard-working, tax-paying, honest, upright citizens. Apparently the whole queue applauded.

I wouldn't have done had I been there. If I wasn't such a wuss, and I were as forthright as Ms Street-Porter, I would have said 'There but for the Grace of God, go I'.

Of course, Janet is an atheist, so maybe in retrospect, that should be, 'There but for Janet's ego go I'....

Janet could have been right. He could have been a dirty rotten opportunist, who didn't want to work and was happy to receive anything that was chucked his way, provided it kept him in speed and cider.

On the other hand, he could have been a guy who had had the shit kicked out of him by his father, competely disregarded and shunned by his mother, had been on the streets for some years and was starving hungry most days, and out of desperation, tried to beg money from people in an ATM queue.

What bugs me most of all is people like Janet who tar everyone with the same brush. Like the fact she calls all men wasters. It takes two to make a marriage.

I shamed myself on Friday, actually. There's a guy who I sometimes buy the Big Issue from in my local high street, but I've ignored him for weeks, all because my friends take the piss out of me for doing so. Yet, his type of begging is of a higher level than the guy in the ATM queue, and invariably, these guys have a home or a hostel.

Are these guys wasters too Janet?

Like Janet, I grew up in a fairly middle class family, and had all the opportunities, including university, should I have wanted to take them. I also had a loving home, with no threats of violence or abuse. I could have done so much more with my life and taken avenues that Janet travelled down. She thinks she's lived. She hasn't, and neither have I.

I believe in a form of fate, but some people have less roads to choose than others. They end up on the street as they felt they have no choice. I could have done too, but because of my avenues of opportunity, it was never ever a serious option. I am blessed.

And because I am a Christian (of sorts), there but for the Grace of God, go I.

There ain't nothing like blogging

2005-02-16T15:08:00.000Z

Most times after blogging, I click the nifty button in the corner which states in bold friendly terms - 'Next Blog'. Y'see, I am a curious cat and like to see what everyone else is talking about.

Before I start my stating my pearls of wisdom (or goofery, depending upon your point of view) I should state a few facts first

1. Only 18% of the internet is ever read. That's EVER.
2. The average attention span of a surfer is 8 seconds. That's just a little more than your average goldfish.
3. One thing really liable to get people really narked at you is badly designed webpages
4. And another likely problem is pop up ads

Bear this in mind, dear surfer, or budding Adrian Mole (or whatever) before you start a blog or design a web page. When clicking next blog, I find:

The Diarist
Well, hey, there's nothing wrong with that. And some of them are really touching. I bookmarked one actually, cos it gave such a fascinating view of a life so far away I just had to give it deeper consideration. Remembering facts 1 and 2 again, the diarist's blog is probably less likely to be read by your sister, which frequently happens if you have it down in a big red book given to you for Christmas (by same sister). The ones that really get up my nose though r th 1s tht typ evrythng in txt spk. Please tell me, that if you really really really want your work of art on the web, and not on your hard drive (or under your bed) do you not want it at least intelligible? Or have I arrived at the wrong planet?

The Seller/Marketer
Quite. Remember facts 1 and 2. You need to advertise your blog more than your actual product. Still, at least these things are free. Some like to bring in the pop up ads. One charming site gave me a virus from one of the pop ups which took weeks to get rid of. Thanks, whoever that was. And see fact 4.

The budding Web Designer
AWFUL. Yes, most of the hybrid designs are just DREADFUL. And usually pink. And also designed on an obscure browser. I use Netscape, Mozilla and IE. None of them make the page look right, so can only assume they picked up some freebee with their Apple Mac, cos they think that M$ are money grabbing (people of dubious parentage). Look, busters, the reason why we use Netscape and IE is because we find that most corporations use them, they've had all the bugs kicked out of them, you can read 90% of the web with them. Apart from your ruddy annoying, badly designed web pages. And since I have the attention span of a goldfish, and don't want to ruin my eyes with bright yellow or pink, I click Next Blog pretty darn quick. See fact 3. And get rid of those BLOODY pop up boxes, MILLIONS of the buggers, TELLING ME HOW WONDERFUL YOUR WEB PAGE IS AND TO CLICK 'OK'!! Sorry those swines are more annoying than anything else. One had the cheek to say...'enjoy my blog' ...'don't create another like it!'...yeah like I'm really gonna try and annoy the remaining blog population that you haven't alienated. The blog was about 6 miles long as well.

The Newsreader
One web page for you. www.bbc.co.uk. End of.

The 'Have to Write Something Today'
Take a day off once in a while sheesh. Apart from those trying to stay in contact with others across the world whilst not paying a fortune in phone bills or postage, then fair enough. Those with a couple of mates who you speak with daily via Talk Talk, what IS the point? Hey, there's more to life than a laptop. Or something.

To blog or not to blog

2005-01-29T17:04:00.000Z

Those that read this (well at least one does) will know that I don't blog very often. Now this could be laziness, but lets get real here. Real surfing addicts (and that's the net, not the ocean wave) will always find time to type something about themselves, its their favourite subject after all.

It got me thinking about why we don't get in touch with our family after we've been away from them for a few months. Now, what's your excuse when your mum phones you up and berates you for not keeping in touch? "Really sorry, Mum, been so busy at work" or maybe "been doing some work round the house, can't wait until you see it" or if she asks why you haven't visited even though you work just round the corner, the even more honest "frankly, mum your cat sets off my allergies"?

OK, lets get deep down here into the far reaches of the soul and draw on the wisdom of my favourite philosphers. They are, in this order, Nigel Molesworth and Fitzroy Maclean Angel. If you've heard of neither, then frankly, chum, you've missed out....what? You want me to tell you who the heck they are?? Look, matey, you've got Google lined up already. Open a new window, go and search for them and get some education. I'll wait here for you, promise.

Oh good, you're back. So now you know.

Nigel hated writing home to mum. He used to say that the truth was so despicable that mamma and papa would choke on their cornflakes if he gave the full, sordid details. So he soft soaped.

Fitzroy has nothing in common with his family, so he just never keeps in touch because he really has nothing to say to them.

So why do we get in touch with anyone? When we have something to say. Now you may be straight on the phone to mum if you win the lottery (OK maybe not) but if its just to say, well, the partner/wife/husband/mistress/lover is fine, our dog's fine, the house is fine, our car is fine, the job is fine, still poverty stricken, still fighting the next door neighbour over boundary rights yahdeyahdeyah you can see how it gets a bit monotinous and you only get in touch if something really special going on.

Hence it is with my blog. By heck, you're thinking, you must have an empty life.

Yeah, I do, but its busy too and when I move to Wales maybe I'll have more time and wax more lyrical.

More on blogs next time, some time. I really must steam clean the carpet.

"Tsunami Tourists"

2004-12-30T17:25:00.000Z

They said
"We're staying,
There's fresh water here and our beach is clean"
But is it clean of the blood
and have the tears merged with the salt of the sea?
and others drink
water polluted with your waste

They said
"We're going to a dance later"
Yes, dance and laugh with the demons and the devils
who are rejoicing over the deaths of the 100,000
and they rejoice still more
as the figure increases by the hour

They said
"Staying will only help the economy"
Your all-in package holiday,
The money that will only help the rich
the fat cats
not the orphans, the widows
who are taken into homes
where they sit and contemplate walking out to sea
to join those whom they have lost

They said
"We have pledged our next holiday money to the fund"
And I have given money too
£5 will pay a child's food for a week
£20 will build a new home for the bewildered
But £5 can't stop a child from
beating his head against a rock because
the pain of death is preferable to the pain inside
and £20
can't revive the dead spouse
can't erase the memory
and can't heal the scars
as easily as the remains are bulldozed away from your eyes and mind

The above was inspired by a radio interview with a man still out on his holiday in the disaster area. He maybe has a point but I am struck by the reserve of it all. He was British too, sometimes our stiff upper lip can seem somewhat cold.

Have a peaceful New Year, all who read this and be thankful that if you spend it with a loved one, that they are still at your side. And please, give all you can to any of the many charities that are raising money to help those in distress after this terrible disaster

Duran Duran so good they named them twice

2004-12-06T07:40:00.000Z

OK, so why start a blog with a has-been pop group?

Cos its my blog and I'll do what I want with it OK??

Sometime back in the late seventies, probably before most of you were born and I was about to contemplate the 11+, a few blokes (three of them named Taylor and unrelated) started a pop group. They'd had a few bevvies and had just seen the film Barbarella and thought that the name of the bad guy was a good name for a group. They were also moderately good looking then, which helped.

Actually, I didn't fancy any of them, though a mate of mine did hold a tealight for Nick Rhodes, though some people were laying bets as to what the next hair colour would be. But I do admit to having, on my bedroom wall, a natty Simon Le Bon pic in baseball gear. Unfortunately for Simon (or should that be fortunately) he was vying for attention with Messrs. Tennant and Lowe (aka Pet Shop Boys) and Nik Kershaw.

They had a rather uncanny knack of writing a tune that not only got teenagers dancing, but their mothers as well. These tunes were catchy, but most fascinating of all were their lyrics. Totally incomprehensible but would imprint on your brain like no Bible verse ever could. Even though I haven't heard a DD LP in years, I will still be able to sing along and remember ALL the lyrics. That is just too too scary. Now, if our mothers really knew what they were singing about, would they have bought us a virginial Seven and the Ragged Tiger LP for our birthday?? Cos, lets face it, what Duran Duran were singing about was SEX (well most of the time anyway) and although our mums had grown up with knowledge of the pill and free love, us little darlings still had to be protected from all that jazz cos they'd realised after marrying too young and having 4 kids and a mortgage that their parents were right - love is the worst thing that can happen to you. Also they had a terrible bad boy image on the quiet. Well it wasn't quiet for most the public, but as I read Smash Hits and not The Sun I was kept blissfully unaware of the all night drinking sessions, the trashing of hotel rooms and the string of broken hearts.

I was in to Duran Duran right at the time it was dangerously untrendy to like them. They hadn't really released a decent record since "View To A Kill" and two of the Taylors were getting itchy feet; Roger wanted to settle down and bring up some kiddies (bless) and Andy had delusions of being a great rock guitarist in the US of A. (Although, from time to time, I heard of him being a guitarist on the 'odd' record, he didn't so much set the world on fire as waft his Malboro smoke about a bit). So that left Le Bon, Rhodes and..the other Taylor. Needless to say, being designed on a 'proper' pop group (i.e. one that at least pretends to play their own instruments) they were short a drummer and guitarist. So they bring in a couple of blokes who, even though we may have been told their names, were never part of Duran Duran proper so were smartly assigned to the back row of the stage.

Actually, there were some decent records during those wilderness years, one of which was covered only a few years later - Ordinary World. Know of very few people who dislike that one.

So now they reformed and no Botox in sight. Andy looks unrecognisible. Nick still looks spooky. Simon's got fat. Roger...sorry is that really fresh faced Roger??...only John Taylor appears to have got himself through the late nineties and early naughties looking pretty much like he did in the early eighties. They even released a very eighties sounding pop record, even the title with its brackets harks back to the days when we used to answer those silly quizzes about records with brackets in. Most all of them were eighties....e.g... (??) Forget About Me, (??) Live and Die...you know the stuff I mean - we now have a new one - Reach Out (??) or should that be (??) For the Sunrise, I can never remember which.

Longevity. Are Busted gonna survive 25 years? They think they're gonna survive a millenia. I think not. Duran Duran before you busters...and I bet John still looks the same in the year three-thousand...