It's been almost five months since I last posted on my blog. Of course the blame lies solely at my door and for that I should be punished, chastised and generally given evil looks at - naughty man. In my defence, all I can say is that sometimes, life just catches up with you and takes over. Before you know it, a significant amount of time (138 days in fact) has passed.
Thinking about that on a grander scale as I just have, that's actually quite disconcerting. At the moment I am looking for a new job. Although I am trying hard to get one, I guess I am dragging my feet a little for no defendable reason. Every day I spend here is a day when I could be doing something else.
I recently had a week off to look after B (who isn't so much of a B any more - maybe I should change her name to 'T' for toddler, but perhaps terror would be more apt). The childminder had to take some time off at relatively short notice. It was something right out of a soap opera (without the random murder, 180 degree plot twists and dramatic confrontation). Her daughter was getting married and she had a friend that was going to help out in the week leading up to the big occasion. Of course she broke her leg (I say of course, I mean with a wedding scheduled, how could it not happen!) As a result of this unfortunate turn of events, the childminder had to step in and take over.
So, that left me to look after B. Not a problem in the slightest as I adore her and love spending time with her. However, the childminder hadn't long got back from spending three weeks away on a Tibetan retreat. To prevent her going to the replacement (I'd rather bathe in a tub full of cat urine, which coincidentally, is what the replacement's house smelt like), a mixture of myself, W, my mum and W's mum. the plus side of this is that we saved some childminding fees - the downside is that it has cost me two week's holiday (in total).
I took her up to London on the Friday as, thanks to W, I had a meeting to see someone from one of the best agencies in my field. It's only when you have to experience something like London that you realise how unfriendly our transport system is for parents with small children. There were almost no escalators on the underground, meaning I had to carry B in one arm and drag the pushchair up with the other. However, I was encouraged due to the number of people who helped me out with stairs. It can't help but make you feel warmth and hope for the human race, especially as I recall W telling me of her experiences on the train when she was pregnant.
In my favour, the interview was 'unique' as it was the first one the woman had done with the candidate and a small child. For the most, she was well behaved, but it wasn't much of a surprise when, towards the end, she wanted to start exploring the new room she was in. I believe I got all the important points across and post interview feedback was positive.
Despite a couple of queries from me, there's been nothing yet, but I have set myself a target of being in a new position at the end of the year and I feel quite positive about achieving that. In a fluffy candy floss cloud dreamy world I would be able to stay at home looking after B and running my nieces to school for my brother and sister-in-law so my Dad can enjoy his retirement after years and years of hard work. I am trying to get my blog going again (and starting a new one on a different topic) to try and get my writing up to an acceptable standard with a view to possibly doing some freelance work.
I need to do plenty of work in that area though before that's a possibility.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Unthinkable
I have been following a story in the news that broke last week I believe. A family on holiday in the Algarve, Portugal has had one of their three children, Madeline, almost 4 years old, taken from them. That alone is horrible enough, and I can't imagine the hell they are going through at the moment.but the circumstances surrounding the disappearance are quite astonishing. The couple, Garry and Kate, were out having a meal together at the time while their three children were sleeping. They were having a meal at the place they were staying and were going back to the room to check on their kids every 30 minutes. In one of the periods between them checking, someone obviously went in and took the child.
Predictably, as a new(ish) parent myself, my initial response was anger and I posted on a forum the other day how disgusted I was that they would leave their three children unsupervised and that I wouldn't leave B alone for thirty seconds, let alone thirty minutes. W wrote a response saying sometimes you can't help but leave your child alone sometimes (not, obviously for such a long period of time as mentioned above) as if you didn't you wouldn't get anything done. She told me later that night that she was originally going to post that we have both been guilty in the past of leaving B in our (locked) car when we have gone and paid for petrol. This scared the hell out of me as it just highlights how easy it is to switch off. Leaving her in a locked car is something you perceive as safety, but it only takes a second for a thief to break into a car and drive off with it. I will certainly be more careful about that in the future and, where possible, I will purchase petrol when I am alone (either that or B will come in with me to pay). Knowing her, I doubt it will be long before she wants to hand the money over herself anyway!
As I write this Madeline has still not been found and I am beginning to fear the worst. Whilst I cannot believe the parents could act so irresponsibly, I can't help but feel sorry for them. In their continuing coverage of the story, the media, on one hand echo the sentiments of any parent and are praying for Madeline's safe return. On the other hand, they, along with the correspondence of the general public have been quite damning of the parents' actions. Of course, this is the last thing they need at the moment. I really hope Madeline is found soon, and most important of all, that she is unharmed. However, I can't stop thinking what sort of emotional damage this can do to a young child and her family. This, hopefully, is a wake-up call to any couples that may be guilty of doing something similar with their children. It certainly has been for me.
Predictably, as a new(ish) parent myself, my initial response was anger and I posted on a forum the other day how disgusted I was that they would leave their three children unsupervised and that I wouldn't leave B alone for thirty seconds, let alone thirty minutes. W wrote a response saying sometimes you can't help but leave your child alone sometimes (not, obviously for such a long period of time as mentioned above) as if you didn't you wouldn't get anything done. She told me later that night that she was originally going to post that we have both been guilty in the past of leaving B in our (locked) car when we have gone and paid for petrol. This scared the hell out of me as it just highlights how easy it is to switch off. Leaving her in a locked car is something you perceive as safety, but it only takes a second for a thief to break into a car and drive off with it. I will certainly be more careful about that in the future and, where possible, I will purchase petrol when I am alone (either that or B will come in with me to pay). Knowing her, I doubt it will be long before she wants to hand the money over herself anyway!
As I write this Madeline has still not been found and I am beginning to fear the worst. Whilst I cannot believe the parents could act so irresponsibly, I can't help but feel sorry for them. In their continuing coverage of the story, the media, on one hand echo the sentiments of any parent and are praying for Madeline's safe return. On the other hand, they, along with the correspondence of the general public have been quite damning of the parents' actions. Of course, this is the last thing they need at the moment. I really hope Madeline is found soon, and most important of all, that she is unharmed. However, I can't stop thinking what sort of emotional damage this can do to a young child and her family. This, hopefully, is a wake-up call to any couples that may be guilty of doing something similar with their children. It certainly has been for me.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
One year old - the best day of my life (a time for reflection)
Last Wednesday it was my B's first birthday - I really can't believe it. It's probably the most clichéd of phrases but it's true - the time has absolutely flown by. It really does only seem like yesterday that W and I both went through this crazy experience called childbirth for the first time.
Tuesday April 25th 2006 - I remember waking from sleep somewhere around 6am, but it might have been earlier. W was sitting upright in bed and was wide awake - she clearly had been awake for some time. She said she felt different. Not being the most coherent of people in the morning, I don't think that statement sunk in straight away - after all, there were still a couple of weeks to go until the due date. So I think I possibly mumbled and grunted something in response and rolled over in an attempt to continue my quest to pogo stick around the Antarctic while wearing a pirates uniform with Elijah Wood, Chelsea Clinton and Top Cat as companions. All this while singing the chorus to 'Wake Me Up Before You Go Go.'
Or something.
Still, it wasn't long before I was sat up as well. I made a move to put the laptop on. I figured I might freak one or two people out on a message board I frequent by posting so early. Little did I know I would be doing that later that night for an entirely different reason. I don't think the laptop had even fully booted up before W was dashing to the toilet as her waters were breaking. Now it was definitely happening and the adrenaline kicked in. I rung the hospital and in a relaxed tone (obviously they do this every day), the Nurses on duty told me to bring W down to the maternity unit.
We got ready and I called W's Mum and Sister and here was probably my biggest regret of the whole day. I didn't call my Mum to get her to come down to the hospital as well. I would have loved to celebrate the birth of my first child with her there. Still, there's no use crying over spilt milk and after all, there's always next time. We took the trip down to the hospital (I'm so glad I didn't have to fight the traffic). The labour was quick (apparently it runs in the family and the second one is even quicker) and B was born at 11:47 if memory serves me well. Of course a lot went on in those six hours.
I didn't know what to expect in the months leading up to the birth and I was very nervous as I am queasy. I remember us going into what turned out to be the delivery room (for some reason, I thought we W would give birth in an operating theatre) and hearing a woman next door screaming so loud that I thought she might rip the whole maternity unit from its foundations. All of a sudden I felt very faint and I dashed off to the en-suite toilet, fearing more than anything that I was going to fail W when she needed me most. I thought I was going to be sick so hunched over the toilet in preparation. The irony didn’t escape me at all. There’s W, about to give birth and she’s worried and asking me if I’m alright
I wasn’t sick though, and to my complete amazement I got over it and was able to quickly regain my place at W's side. That's where I stayed as well for the duration - save for the occasional trip to shout at incompetent nurses who seemed to be oblivious to my calls for drugs. I can only assume that they thought there would be hours of labour left and there were other people more in need of urgent attention. Certainly for me, that part of it was more stressful than it should have been so god knows what it was like for W. We’ll certainly bear that in mind when choosing a hospital next time around. I continued to be as supportive to W as I could be and in fact, I was surprised how strong I was being.
Seeing the head beginning to come out was an amazing experience and another thing that I thought I would be too queasy to look at. However, I passed with flying colours. I was almost infatuated, probably because I knew my child had almost arrived in the world. When you consider how long it took to get to that point, the next part up until when B was born was like a 100-meter sprint.
Our daughter had arrived (I’m not sure what it was I saw at first as I thought it was a boy). It was too much for me to take and I was a gibbering wreck with tears streaming down my face. I felt invincible, but, more importantly, I was so proud of W and will always be for the rest of my life. I had the easy part and to be frank, I’m not sure if I could go through what she went through that day.
I composed myself (just about) and wandered out to the waiting room where W’s Mum and Sister were sat in anticipation. I had a smile on my face as I entered the room and they saw me. My mouth just about got the words ‘It’s a girl!” (or at least that’s what I was trying to say – I think they heard “issfagrillljkbmbooooooo”) and I promptly broke down crying again as they hugged me.
The rest of the day I’ll have to save for another time, but my little girl had been born and my life had taken a dramatic change, never to go back again.
Tuesday April 25th 2006 - I remember waking from sleep somewhere around 6am, but it might have been earlier. W was sitting upright in bed and was wide awake - she clearly had been awake for some time. She said she felt different. Not being the most coherent of people in the morning, I don't think that statement sunk in straight away - after all, there were still a couple of weeks to go until the due date. So I think I possibly mumbled and grunted something in response and rolled over in an attempt to continue my quest to pogo stick around the Antarctic while wearing a pirates uniform with Elijah Wood, Chelsea Clinton and Top Cat as companions. All this while singing the chorus to 'Wake Me Up Before You Go Go.'
Or something.
Still, it wasn't long before I was sat up as well. I made a move to put the laptop on. I figured I might freak one or two people out on a message board I frequent by posting so early. Little did I know I would be doing that later that night for an entirely different reason. I don't think the laptop had even fully booted up before W was dashing to the toilet as her waters were breaking. Now it was definitely happening and the adrenaline kicked in. I rung the hospital and in a relaxed tone (obviously they do this every day), the Nurses on duty told me to bring W down to the maternity unit.
We got ready and I called W's Mum and Sister and here was probably my biggest regret of the whole day. I didn't call my Mum to get her to come down to the hospital as well. I would have loved to celebrate the birth of my first child with her there. Still, there's no use crying over spilt milk and after all, there's always next time. We took the trip down to the hospital (I'm so glad I didn't have to fight the traffic). The labour was quick (apparently it runs in the family and the second one is even quicker) and B was born at 11:47 if memory serves me well. Of course a lot went on in those six hours.
I didn't know what to expect in the months leading up to the birth and I was very nervous as I am queasy. I remember us going into what turned out to be the delivery room (for some reason, I thought we W would give birth in an operating theatre) and hearing a woman next door screaming so loud that I thought she might rip the whole maternity unit from its foundations. All of a sudden I felt very faint and I dashed off to the en-suite toilet, fearing more than anything that I was going to fail W when she needed me most. I thought I was going to be sick so hunched over the toilet in preparation. The irony didn’t escape me at all. There’s W, about to give birth and she’s worried and asking me if I’m alright
I wasn’t sick though, and to my complete amazement I got over it and was able to quickly regain my place at W's side. That's where I stayed as well for the duration - save for the occasional trip to shout at incompetent nurses who seemed to be oblivious to my calls for drugs. I can only assume that they thought there would be hours of labour left and there were other people more in need of urgent attention. Certainly for me, that part of it was more stressful than it should have been so god knows what it was like for W. We’ll certainly bear that in mind when choosing a hospital next time around. I continued to be as supportive to W as I could be and in fact, I was surprised how strong I was being.
Seeing the head beginning to come out was an amazing experience and another thing that I thought I would be too queasy to look at. However, I passed with flying colours. I was almost infatuated, probably because I knew my child had almost arrived in the world. When you consider how long it took to get to that point, the next part up until when B was born was like a 100-meter sprint.
Our daughter had arrived (I’m not sure what it was I saw at first as I thought it was a boy). It was too much for me to take and I was a gibbering wreck with tears streaming down my face. I felt invincible, but, more importantly, I was so proud of W and will always be for the rest of my life. I had the easy part and to be frank, I’m not sure if I could go through what she went through that day.
I composed myself (just about) and wandered out to the waiting room where W’s Mum and Sister were sat in anticipation. I had a smile on my face as I entered the room and they saw me. My mouth just about got the words ‘It’s a girl!” (or at least that’s what I was trying to say – I think they heard “issfagrillljkbmbooooooo”) and I promptly broke down crying again as they hugged me.
The rest of the day I’ll have to save for another time, but my little girl had been born and my life had taken a dramatic change, never to go back again.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Should fish tank flinging become an Olympic event?
A short time before I met W, I was of the opinion that I really didn't need a mobile phone of any sort and despite being a gadget freak, I really didn't see the point. I'm not sure whether I classed it as a gadget or not. Still, one Sunday, after playing five-a-side football with some friends, I headed to the nearest town centre to pick one up - still in my football kit. I'm still not really sure what possessed me to do it there and then. I'm pretty sure I didn't hear any sniggering at the time.
Five or six mobile phones later and I still don't really use my most recent one that much despite being on a silly contract with Vodafone. It doesn't tend to ring that much really and when it does, 95% of the time it is W. So when the display pops up and it's not her, I'm slightly worried. Especially when it's a strange time.
Like 7:27am on Tuesday morning. It was my mother.
Mum tends to get in a bit of a pickle quite easily and wears her heart on her sleeve (so that's where I got it from - never really thought of that before). Still, she sounded calm so that relaxed me. Nevertheless, something had happened. One of my brothers (S) had had a bit of an accident and was in hospital. Despite my mum not sounding like a frog being cornered by a vindictive cat - reaffirming the fact that everything was okay, my heart started racing. It transpires that he had gotten home early as a change to make some dinner for his family and do a few other chores - one of which that was cleaning the fish tank.
Do you know where this is heading yet?
He had dropped the fish tank on his foot. He had no socks or slippers on and, it transpires later, had severed the tendon which is connected to his big toe, meaning he could not move it at all (ouch). According to his wife, who, incidentally first asked how the fish were, you could see the insides of his foot. Unfortunately/fortunately (delete where applicable), there are no pictures. Mum said he had stayed in hospital overnight and they were going to operate that very morning. I got a few more details from her and said I would try to contact S or his wife later. I rung and told W who, being a lot closer, would be able to volunteer to help out if need be. Despite trying, I really could not help but think about nothing else for the rest of the journey. See my previous blog post about how I excel at being a worry guts.
Work was quiet, which didn't help, but I managed to get through to lunchtime and I spoke to mum who said he was out of surgery so I gave him a call. He sounded groggy but mostly because he had nothing to drink or eat up to that point. He had a cast on and his wife was there. He was hideously bored. S plays cricket in the summer - to the point that we see very little of him. With the season about to kick off, he had been told by the consultant/surgeon that he wouldn't be able to play for months, which pretty much rules him out of the whole season, poor bloke. I could easily pick out the disappointment in his voice. He'd need time off of work too - something he can't afford as he's so busy.
I told him by hook or by crook I would come to visit him later that day. Fortunately, my boss was really good about it and let me head off an hour early and W would be waiting at the station with B (the child minder couldn't keep her late as she had to go out). I thought I would lend him my Playstation Portable as even though he'd just picked up a Wii, I couldn't see him playing it much with his foot in plaster. I stopped in a videogame shop and picked him up a couple of games I thought he would like (Tiger Woods and FIFA). I tend to be quite a charitable kind of guy - even more so when things like this happen and, for a second, I even contemplated lending him my Xbox 360. Fortunately I saw the error of my ways and slapped some sense into myself ; - )
We arrived at the hospital and I put two bars of gold bullion into the car-parking machine (don't get me started) to cover us for a couple of hours. Made what turned out to be a silly decision to carry B instead of pushing her in her pushchair. Yes, of course we got lost. If my arms didn't feel similar to Mr. Fantastic of the Fantastic 4 before then, they certainly did when we finally got to the ward he was on. I'm thinking that if they ever need to shut down Hampton Court maze, there is a suitable replacement in this particular hospital.
On the way from pillar to post the fact hadn't escaped me that almost a year to the day, we were back at the hospital where B was born. Fate? Well, if you believe in such things. It was a nice visit - he seemed in good spirits. I passed over my PSP and some games, with a pack of Maltesers to sweeten the deal (deal, what deal? Exactly what am I getting out of this!!!) B was as good as gold and as charming as ever. We couldn't stay for a huge amount of time though as her bedtime was looming and she needed a lot of sleep to prepare for her birthday.
The emotions that tend to take over me when things like this happen never cease to amaze me. I get very protective of those I care about the most. I would tackle sharks (in true Batman, the television movie style of course) if it meant people I loved would be able to get away. It's quite possible that those feelings have really come to the surface even more since I became a father. It reaffirms to me that I know I am a good person and that makes me happy. It's certainly something that I need to remind myself when I'm not so sure. One thing is for sure though and that's that I will be doing my best to be an ace brother in the coming weeks and months because he's an ace brother too and us ace brothers - well, we gotta stick together.
Five or six mobile phones later and I still don't really use my most recent one that much despite being on a silly contract with Vodafone. It doesn't tend to ring that much really and when it does, 95% of the time it is W. So when the display pops up and it's not her, I'm slightly worried. Especially when it's a strange time.
Like 7:27am on Tuesday morning. It was my mother.
Mum tends to get in a bit of a pickle quite easily and wears her heart on her sleeve (so that's where I got it from - never really thought of that before). Still, she sounded calm so that relaxed me. Nevertheless, something had happened. One of my brothers (S) had had a bit of an accident and was in hospital. Despite my mum not sounding like a frog being cornered by a vindictive cat - reaffirming the fact that everything was okay, my heart started racing. It transpires that he had gotten home early as a change to make some dinner for his family and do a few other chores - one of which that was cleaning the fish tank.
Do you know where this is heading yet?
He had dropped the fish tank on his foot. He had no socks or slippers on and, it transpires later, had severed the tendon which is connected to his big toe, meaning he could not move it at all (ouch). According to his wife, who, incidentally first asked how the fish were, you could see the insides of his foot. Unfortunately/fortunately (delete where applicable), there are no pictures. Mum said he had stayed in hospital overnight and they were going to operate that very morning. I got a few more details from her and said I would try to contact S or his wife later. I rung and told W who, being a lot closer, would be able to volunteer to help out if need be. Despite trying, I really could not help but think about nothing else for the rest of the journey. See my previous blog post about how I excel at being a worry guts.
Work was quiet, which didn't help, but I managed to get through to lunchtime and I spoke to mum who said he was out of surgery so I gave him a call. He sounded groggy but mostly because he had nothing to drink or eat up to that point. He had a cast on and his wife was there. He was hideously bored. S plays cricket in the summer - to the point that we see very little of him. With the season about to kick off, he had been told by the consultant/surgeon that he wouldn't be able to play for months, which pretty much rules him out of the whole season, poor bloke. I could easily pick out the disappointment in his voice. He'd need time off of work too - something he can't afford as he's so busy.
I told him by hook or by crook I would come to visit him later that day. Fortunately, my boss was really good about it and let me head off an hour early and W would be waiting at the station with B (the child minder couldn't keep her late as she had to go out). I thought I would lend him my Playstation Portable as even though he'd just picked up a Wii, I couldn't see him playing it much with his foot in plaster. I stopped in a videogame shop and picked him up a couple of games I thought he would like (Tiger Woods and FIFA). I tend to be quite a charitable kind of guy - even more so when things like this happen and, for a second, I even contemplated lending him my Xbox 360. Fortunately I saw the error of my ways and slapped some sense into myself ; - )
We arrived at the hospital and I put two bars of gold bullion into the car-parking machine (don't get me started) to cover us for a couple of hours. Made what turned out to be a silly decision to carry B instead of pushing her in her pushchair. Yes, of course we got lost. If my arms didn't feel similar to Mr. Fantastic of the Fantastic 4 before then, they certainly did when we finally got to the ward he was on. I'm thinking that if they ever need to shut down Hampton Court maze, there is a suitable replacement in this particular hospital.
On the way from pillar to post the fact hadn't escaped me that almost a year to the day, we were back at the hospital where B was born. Fate? Well, if you believe in such things. It was a nice visit - he seemed in good spirits. I passed over my PSP and some games, with a pack of Maltesers to sweeten the deal (deal, what deal? Exactly what am I getting out of this!!!) B was as good as gold and as charming as ever. We couldn't stay for a huge amount of time though as her bedtime was looming and she needed a lot of sleep to prepare for her birthday.
The emotions that tend to take over me when things like this happen never cease to amaze me. I get very protective of those I care about the most. I would tackle sharks (in true Batman, the television movie style of course) if it meant people I loved would be able to get away. It's quite possible that those feelings have really come to the surface even more since I became a father. It reaffirms to me that I know I am a good person and that makes me happy. It's certainly something that I need to remind myself when I'm not so sure. One thing is for sure though and that's that I will be doing my best to be an ace brother in the coming weeks and months because he's an ace brother too and us ace brothers - well, we gotta stick together.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Illness and the people that refuse to accept it
I'm beginning to wonder if I should keep a count of how many of my blog posts start off like that. If I was a betting man, which I'm not, I get the feeling I could make some money out of it (*plots plans of world domination*).
There has been a reason for my lack of posting. Firstly, B has been ill. She got conjunctivitis and followed it up by a cough and a cold, which, being the caring, sharing baby she is, she duly gave to anyone who came within a few feet of her, myself and W included. Rumours of a restriction order being issued to prevent her from passing it on to anyone else by luring people close enough with her cuteness and then pouncing are unsubstantiated at this point in time. It wouldn't surprise me one little bit though.
Here, I have to be completely honest, I am a complete worry guts. Some people are just like that. I didn't deal with the illness thing brilliantly. I'm not entirely sure why though. I knew that she was basically fine as she still laughed, babbled and shot around the floor at a million miles an hour - just with snot flying everywhere. I just wanted her to get better and if there was a way for me to take it all away and give it to myself, I surely would have done that. Well, partly wish granted I guess as I felt completely rough before, during and after the Easter weekend. This meant that not only did I have to take time off of work to look after her (understandably, the child minder wouldn't take her), but I had to take a day off work myself and work the post Easter week feeling less than functional.
Now this is what frustrates me no end. I am on a six-month probation at the moment (more about this later). Any time I take off that is not part of my annual leave, I do not get paid for. I firmly believe that if you are ill you should not come to work - especially if you are 'lucky' enough to receive sick pay. It's something that I used to practice when I was a manager myself at my last company - I would actively send people home if they were under the weather (cue my old HR department slamming a blood red 'NOT MANAGEMENT MATERIAL' stamp on my personal file. I'm not suggesting for a second that if you wake up in the morning with a bit of a splutter that you should lunge for the phone and put your best croaky voice, having licked the carpet for added effect. Yet, I lost count of the amount of people in this office who were clearly ill and proceeded to charitably pass their germs around the office as if it were some sort of fundraising event. Oh for the want of something like duvet days!
Before people start pointing and jabbing at me with sharp sticks, calling me 'hypocrite', I believe my case is different as I couldn't afford to not be at work and the days over this six months where I have been at my worst, I have not come in. For someone that is, I believe, a reasonably healthy individual, I have been ill a little too much since I started my new job. There is a big part of me that fears that the 'D' word is rearing it's ugly head again and that's why I feel so run down. Of course, I'm sure the long days contribute to this and I'm fighting it all off with all the strength I can round up.
Still, my job hunt continues, even if, to date, nothing has come of it. To top it all off, my probation period has been extended for a further three months, due to the extra time it took to get my 'working head' on after being off for so long. I'm not bitter about it at all - I just felt a little down for half a day following the meeting with my Manager. I felt that I was letting W and B down.
It was a positive meeting however and my Manager said that if my performance currently was like that consistently over the whole six months, then I would have passed with flying colours. Trying to get positives out of what could be perceived as negative experiences is a good example of the fight I referred to a couple of paragraphs up.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
The Social Wonders of Xbox Live and the Internet (Part One)
Without actually checking back (yes, I’m feeling lazy today), I’m pretty sure it was around four and a half years ago that Microsoft turned console gaming on its head with the introduction of Xbox Live (XBL). For those that don’t know, XBL heralded the introduction of mainstream online multiplayer gaming on video game consoles. Before this, online gaming was solely the property of the PC gaming community and, like most things associated with PC’s, doing it was a complete pain in the backside.
I certainly dabbled once or twice, for a game of Quake, Quake II or Half Life, but there was no sense of community and it was a haven for the keyboard (or headset) warrior. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy the experience, but it lacked that certain something that made you come back for one...more....go. Additionally, you were pretty much restricted to first-person shooters and strategy games – the two genres the PC excels in, due to the responsiveness of the mouse and keyboard combination.
XBL gave Xbox users a unique ID, known as a gamertag, and access to a friends list so you could play with people you enjoyed playing with (unfortunately, there are still a fair few idiots out there and I daresay there always will be). As the original Xbox was released after the Playstation 2, which, by now, was dominating in the market, there was a lack of decent games on XBL when it was first released. The biggest sin was that the flagship Xbox title, Halo wasn’t XBL compatible.
I signed up and received my software and headset (for my Birthday if I remember correctly). Excited about the release, I hadn’t counted on my shyness to play a big factor. My interest soon waned and I stopped using it, preferring the safety of the single player experience. Fortunately, this was relatively short-lived as a visit to a friend’s house introduced me to Tom Clancy’s Rainbow Six 3. Having never really been that excited about the squad-based shooters before, I found myself actually having fun, even if I was still a little quiet (although that might have had more to do with my state of mind at the time).
I quickly went out and purchased RS3 and Top Spin (unsurprisingly a tennis game) and got back online, with a new gamertag, which you’ll see at the top right hand side of this very blog. I immediately started having more fun and, with the release of Pro Evolution Soccer 5, I became hooked. Certainly, as far as the football is concerned, I won more games that I lost. Of course, there were many more games than just these and Crimson Skies and Halo 2 were worthy of a mention (the latter of which I still occasionally play online).
However, XBL for the original Xbox was still mostly a rough diamond. Microsoft moved it up a gear with the release of the Xbox 360. Here, XBL was more central to the whole ethos of the console. Multiplayer was practically an essential mode for all games released, and you could quickly access your friends list and see what they are playing with the press of a button. I personally love this feature as I guess I must have some hidden voyeuristic tendencies hidden deep down. There are many more features to XBL that I’m sure I’ll go into at a later stage, including the financial bane of my existence, Xbox Live Arcade!
Admittedly, I’m still fairly selective about who I talk to on XBL, but, as the companion piece to this post will show, when you look at the ‘before’ and ‘after’ aspects of my personality, I underwent a fairly significant change in the process.
See you on Live sometime!
*********************************************************************
STOP PRESS (eh, what press?)
As I was composing this blog piece, Microsoft finally announced the release of the Xbox 360 Elite – and the worst kept secret in the history of the videogame industry. A souped up version of the current 360 premium, it’s a black console (for heavens sake, why?) with a black wireless controller to match. It has a 120Gb hard drive and an HDMI port which is supposed to run quieter than the current 360, which, admittedly, puts the engines on some small light aircraft to shame. Let’s hope that whatever tinkering they’ve done inside puts an end to the dreaded three red lights ‘ring of death’ that has meant a trip to the menders of many an owner’s 360.
No news on a UK release date yet (as far as I know). As a gadget freak, of course I want one, but seeing as I don’t have an HDTV and am likely to own one for the foreseeable future, I’ll probably go without.
*********************************************************************
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
The Power of Three
Friday March 23rd finally saw Sony throw their fancy next generation hats into the ring with the release of the Playstation 3 – some four months after the obviously more important US and Japanese territories. This is not the first time that Europe has been let down by Sony and, well, let’s face it, it’s not going to be the last time either.
To see in this momentous date in the history of videogames, Sony pulled off a bit of a PR stunt up in London whereby it dished out free £2,000 HDTV’s to 100 or so lucky punters at Virgin Megastore in London. To avoid lawsuits from chavved up teenagers flattened by the sheer weight of all the gadgety goodness, they also all got a free taxi ride home. My initial thought was obviously, “bugger it, why did I have to go and break my time machine?” However, I then felt sorry for all the people not being lucky enough to live around the corner from the London Superstore who just had to settle for a measly Playstation 3 console. That’s potentially some seriously miffed customers Sony!
Still, it’s on the streets now, at the princely sum of £425 of your English pounds (without any free games, an extra controller, etc). By all accounts, almost a week later, it’s still freely available in practically any shop you would care to walk into (although don’t blame me if the shop assistant in ‘Cat-Astrophe’ the pet shop gives you a funny look if you try to get one there).
On a forum I frequent, and certainly since the release of the Xbox 360, I’ve been fairly critical about Sony in the run-up to this release and I still think that £425 is pricing a fair few out of the market, for most of us that don’t really want a Blu-Ray player, thanks very much. Most of the launch games are already available on another console and Resistance: Fall of Man, Sony’s shiny white beacon of a launch game has suffered from average reviews. The online side is light years behind Xbox Live (although the recently announced Sony Home looks interesting). I firmly believe that software will make or break this console and Sony will need some fairly decent tricks up its tweed-jacketed sleeves throughout the rest of the year.
Titles such as Singstar, with a fairly hefty catalogue of downloadable content and the forthcoming ‘Little Big Planet,’ recently featured in Edge Magazine show there is certainly potential and that Sony still knows its market and realises that innovation (and not just graphical updates of its big PS2 sellers – hello Killzone) must come with every jump to a new platform to ensure the market does stagnate. After all, Sony isn’t the new kid on the block anymore.
Regardless of this partly negative blog post, the closer the launch has gotten, the gadget freak in me can’t help but want one. The technology cabinet, divided into four under my spectacularly non-HDTV has a spare space and I think, no, I’m pretty darn sure it’s been calling out to me to fill it.
Now, where’s my screwdriver and wrench, I’ve got a time machine to fix!
To see in this momentous date in the history of videogames, Sony pulled off a bit of a PR stunt up in London whereby it dished out free £2,000 HDTV’s to 100 or so lucky punters at Virgin Megastore in London. To avoid lawsuits from chavved up teenagers flattened by the sheer weight of all the gadgety goodness, they also all got a free taxi ride home. My initial thought was obviously, “bugger it, why did I have to go and break my time machine?” However, I then felt sorry for all the people not being lucky enough to live around the corner from the London Superstore who just had to settle for a measly Playstation 3 console. That’s potentially some seriously miffed customers Sony!
Still, it’s on the streets now, at the princely sum of £425 of your English pounds (without any free games, an extra controller, etc). By all accounts, almost a week later, it’s still freely available in practically any shop you would care to walk into (although don’t blame me if the shop assistant in ‘Cat-Astrophe’ the pet shop gives you a funny look if you try to get one there).
On a forum I frequent, and certainly since the release of the Xbox 360, I’ve been fairly critical about Sony in the run-up to this release and I still think that £425 is pricing a fair few out of the market, for most of us that don’t really want a Blu-Ray player, thanks very much. Most of the launch games are already available on another console and Resistance: Fall of Man, Sony’s shiny white beacon of a launch game has suffered from average reviews. The online side is light years behind Xbox Live (although the recently announced Sony Home looks interesting). I firmly believe that software will make or break this console and Sony will need some fairly decent tricks up its tweed-jacketed sleeves throughout the rest of the year.
Titles such as Singstar, with a fairly hefty catalogue of downloadable content and the forthcoming ‘Little Big Planet,’ recently featured in Edge Magazine show there is certainly potential and that Sony still knows its market and realises that innovation (and not just graphical updates of its big PS2 sellers – hello Killzone) must come with every jump to a new platform to ensure the market does stagnate. After all, Sony isn’t the new kid on the block anymore.Regardless of this partly negative blog post, the closer the launch has gotten, the gadget freak in me can’t help but want one. The technology cabinet, divided into four under my spectacularly non-HDTV has a spare space and I think, no, I’m pretty darn sure it’s been calling out to me to fill it.
Now, where’s my screwdriver and wrench, I’ve got a time machine to fix!
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Miserabilism and a Shining Light
It’s been a week or two since I last posted, I’ll admit. From a day-to-day perspective, not a lot has been happening in all honesty. I’m becoming increasingly disillusioned at work and in all frankness I’ve had enough of the journey. I’ve started looking for something new as it’s making me utterly miserable coming to work every morning. I’m at the point where I would pretty much take anything if it would mean I was closer to home than I am currently.
Last night was a good case in point. W had to stay late at work and she rung me on my train journey home to let me know. I could do nothing in respect of picking up B, meaning she had to stay with the childminder. I see very little of B as it is and this is by no means W’s fault. I feel so frustrated - if I was somehow closer, I could pick her up in the evenings and spend some much-needed time with her. I know W would be much happier with this arrangement too. We both feel really guilty about the lack of time we spend with her and I certainly feel that I am missing out on some important stages in B’s development (more later). To top this all off, I dashed off the train and sprinted to the bus stop (as it leaves almost right on the time my train gets in). The doors of the bus closed as I approached and despite my frantic knocking on the door, the driver decided to ignored me and pulled away – in doing so, exercising the very little power this man has in his life. My head drooped, dejected and miserable.
The weeks really do seem to last forever and the weekend flies by and is over before you’ve even had a chance to appreciate them. More worrying is the fact that, after 5 months in this new job, I’m already beginning to feel like I did on a Sunday when I was at my old place of work after 4-5 years. I was at my last job for 8 years, which just illustrates the poor physical and mental state I was in at the time. I was suffering from depression and had practically no ‘get-up-and-go’. In the end, it took a redundancy to finally get me to move on and then it took me six months to find the job I am in now. I absolutely won’t let a lack of drive stop me from being proactive and finding myself something different this time around.
On the plus side, it looks like W’s contract at work is going to be extended until the end of May, which is fantastic news for her and from a financial perspective for us. Although it is tiring, she loves the job and would love to be able to stay full time. I wholeheartedly support that last statement.
In addition, B’s development seems to be going from strength to strength. I am so proud of her and I pinch myself (figuratively of course – I’m a wuss, it would hurt with the sheer volume of pinching I would have to do) with how amazing she is. Just before I met W, when life wasn’t great and I was at my (un-diagnosed depression) lowest, I didn’t think I would meet a significant other, let alone get married and have children with said person. I doubted I would be any good at Fatherhood so have surprised myself completely. This has not come as much of a surprise to friends and family though and especially W, who always knew I would come up trumps.
I always looked at the phrase ‘to love someone so much it hurts’ with a huge dollop of scepticism, but here I am feeling exactly that way about my wife and child. Which I guess is why it’s so tough being so far away from them both. Anyway, I seem to have drifted somewhat.
B has developed somewhat of a 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 27th gear with regards to crawling. Before, her attitude to crawling was on an ‘only if I have to’ basis and even then it was a commando shuffle rather than a fully-fledged crawl. Now, you can look away for a fraction of a second, look back and find her undoubtedly with her head and hands in something she shouldn’t have. Also, from out of nowhere, she has decided she wants to stand up now and what surprised us both is how quickly she took to it. None, of this ‘attempt it for 3-4 weeks and gradually get better’. B had it licked in the space of a weekend easily and she’s already taking her hands away from what she’s holding on to and hovering for a number of seconds before crashing down to the floor, chuckling about it and setting off again.
As W said, “Dear, we need to get the baby gate up!” We’ve already had to drop the cot as one morning last week, W went in to find her standing up, leaning over the cot and grabbing at pretty much everything on the storage unit next to her. B had a development check last week and everything is fine. She is perhaps a little heavier than she should be, but nothing to worry about. The Health Visitor said that she thinks B will walking within the month – wow!
Movement isn’t the only thing she’s getting better at. Her vocabulary is growing at an astonishing rate. As long as I live I don’t think I’ll ever forget the time when I took her from the living room to the bedroom to play on the bed. She proceeded to chew the frame at the end of the bed (quite a delicacy I’ve heard in Baby circles). We had been playing the “Where’s (name of baby)? There she is!” game for a while, mostly using her blart rag (I’ll explain some other time), our hands or an item of her clothing.
As she was tucking into her second course of bed frame, I said “Where’s B?” However, I never got around to finishing the phrase, she did it for me. sure, it wasn’t as clear and concise as someone older might say, but there was absolutely no mistaking it. My jaw dropped to the floor, for what seemed like an age. I called out to W (who was still in the living room). She heard it too and I imagine she had much the same expression as I did.
This certainly wasn’t the first time B has impressed us and there’s no doubt it will be the last either. There’s no question that she’s smart. I almost wouldn’t be surprised if I came home today to find B doing the housework whilst reciting Shakespeare, bouncing up and down on a space hopper and making the cats levitate. If pride manifested itself as the colour green, I would have people stopping me in the street every five minutes asking me if I was Lou Ferrigno.
So, signing off for now. In conclusion, I quote from the top of this very page, ‘From a day-to-day perspective, not a lot has been happening in all honesty.’ I worry for the data storage capacity of the internet if things get busy for me!
Currently listening to:
Maximo Park: Our Earthly Pleasures
Air: Pocket Symphony
The Delgados: Hate
Last night was a good case in point. W had to stay late at work and she rung me on my train journey home to let me know. I could do nothing in respect of picking up B, meaning she had to stay with the childminder. I see very little of B as it is and this is by no means W’s fault. I feel so frustrated - if I was somehow closer, I could pick her up in the evenings and spend some much-needed time with her. I know W would be much happier with this arrangement too. We both feel really guilty about the lack of time we spend with her and I certainly feel that I am missing out on some important stages in B’s development (more later). To top this all off, I dashed off the train and sprinted to the bus stop (as it leaves almost right on the time my train gets in). The doors of the bus closed as I approached and despite my frantic knocking on the door, the driver decided to ignored me and pulled away – in doing so, exercising the very little power this man has in his life. My head drooped, dejected and miserable.
The weeks really do seem to last forever and the weekend flies by and is over before you’ve even had a chance to appreciate them. More worrying is the fact that, after 5 months in this new job, I’m already beginning to feel like I did on a Sunday when I was at my old place of work after 4-5 years. I was at my last job for 8 years, which just illustrates the poor physical and mental state I was in at the time. I was suffering from depression and had practically no ‘get-up-and-go’. In the end, it took a redundancy to finally get me to move on and then it took me six months to find the job I am in now. I absolutely won’t let a lack of drive stop me from being proactive and finding myself something different this time around.
On the plus side, it looks like W’s contract at work is going to be extended until the end of May, which is fantastic news for her and from a financial perspective for us. Although it is tiring, she loves the job and would love to be able to stay full time. I wholeheartedly support that last statement.
In addition, B’s development seems to be going from strength to strength. I am so proud of her and I pinch myself (figuratively of course – I’m a wuss, it would hurt with the sheer volume of pinching I would have to do) with how amazing she is. Just before I met W, when life wasn’t great and I was at my (un-diagnosed depression) lowest, I didn’t think I would meet a significant other, let alone get married and have children with said person. I doubted I would be any good at Fatherhood so have surprised myself completely. This has not come as much of a surprise to friends and family though and especially W, who always knew I would come up trumps.
I always looked at the phrase ‘to love someone so much it hurts’ with a huge dollop of scepticism, but here I am feeling exactly that way about my wife and child. Which I guess is why it’s so tough being so far away from them both. Anyway, I seem to have drifted somewhat.
B has developed somewhat of a 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 27th gear with regards to crawling. Before, her attitude to crawling was on an ‘only if I have to’ basis and even then it was a commando shuffle rather than a fully-fledged crawl. Now, you can look away for a fraction of a second, look back and find her undoubtedly with her head and hands in something she shouldn’t have. Also, from out of nowhere, she has decided she wants to stand up now and what surprised us both is how quickly she took to it. None, of this ‘attempt it for 3-4 weeks and gradually get better’. B had it licked in the space of a weekend easily and she’s already taking her hands away from what she’s holding on to and hovering for a number of seconds before crashing down to the floor, chuckling about it and setting off again.
As W said, “Dear, we need to get the baby gate up!” We’ve already had to drop the cot as one morning last week, W went in to find her standing up, leaning over the cot and grabbing at pretty much everything on the storage unit next to her. B had a development check last week and everything is fine. She is perhaps a little heavier than she should be, but nothing to worry about. The Health Visitor said that she thinks B will walking within the month – wow!
Movement isn’t the only thing she’s getting better at. Her vocabulary is growing at an astonishing rate. As long as I live I don’t think I’ll ever forget the time when I took her from the living room to the bedroom to play on the bed. She proceeded to chew the frame at the end of the bed (quite a delicacy I’ve heard in Baby circles). We had been playing the “Where’s (name of baby)? There she is!” game for a while, mostly using her blart rag (I’ll explain some other time), our hands or an item of her clothing.
As she was tucking into her second course of bed frame, I said “Where’s B?” However, I never got around to finishing the phrase, she did it for me. sure, it wasn’t as clear and concise as someone older might say, but there was absolutely no mistaking it. My jaw dropped to the floor, for what seemed like an age. I called out to W (who was still in the living room). She heard it too and I imagine she had much the same expression as I did.
This certainly wasn’t the first time B has impressed us and there’s no doubt it will be the last either. There’s no question that she’s smart. I almost wouldn’t be surprised if I came home today to find B doing the housework whilst reciting Shakespeare, bouncing up and down on a space hopper and making the cats levitate. If pride manifested itself as the colour green, I would have people stopping me in the street every five minutes asking me if I was Lou Ferrigno.
So, signing off for now. In conclusion, I quote from the top of this very page, ‘From a day-to-day perspective, not a lot has been happening in all honesty.’ I worry for the data storage capacity of the internet if things get busy for me!
Currently listening to:
Maximo Park: Our Earthly Pleasures
Air: Pocket Symphony
The Delgados: Hate
Monday, March 05, 2007
A World Without Music
Picture the scene, a cold Monday morning after a stressful weekend where W and I would much rather have stayed at home thank you very much. As mentioned in a previous entry, B had gone to stay with her Gran up in the big smoke. This didn't go too well with either of us as we both felt a little under the weather and we both missed B like crazy. To top it all, we both had to go and see 'The Lion King', a musical we wouldn't even send our worst enemies to. It felt like torture and by the end of the whole day, the fake smile on my face was beginning to look a little plastic. In fact, I think the only reason we both got through it was by making jokes about it.....'Circle of Strife' indeed! A packed train journey home and an absolute soaking on the way back to the car topped it all off nicely. Sunday night had its filthy little claws into us and I could certainly hear the faint cackling of Monday morning, already expectantly waiting and ready to pounce. There was no escaping it - no matter how hard the struggle. The weekend had passed too quickly and we were not happy about it!
So yes, Monday morning - the sort of morning when, by dragging yourself out of bed feels like you have accomplished a great deal. I had breakfast, got changed, made my way down the stairs and out the door (via a very nice goodbye kiss from W - the best part of the day). Fumbling in my bag for my bus pass and mp3 player as I made my way to the bus stop, something didn't feel right. It felt a little light. I convinced myself it was nothing - another incident of my shockingly poor start to the day.
I got on the bus, somewhat baffled by the fact that the Oyster card still said £1 credit, even though I was convinced that was what it said on Friday when I had carried out the same task. I sat in my usual seat, surrounded by the same vacuous faces and begun a more thorough inspection of my bag. The cold hard truth soon hit me:
"Oh bugger!" I thought, "I've left my mp3 player at home!"
Now, to some, that probably won't seem like such a big deal. It's only music, right? Well yes, but for the journey I was about to undertake and when you consider how much music means to me (future posts will reflect this and go into much more detail on the subject). I tried to convince myself that it wasn't a big deal. After all, I had a copy of the paper and the Su Doku would keep me busy (bugger, it's Monday - they're dead easy on a Monday). I thought I might take in the sights and sounds of the journey and reflect on them on these very pages. After all, every cloud has a silver lining and it was good to reflect positively on a negative experience. What follows just goes to show you that the silver lining in my specific cloud was obviously knocked up by one of those cheap, imitation places that shady looking chaps sell out of a suitcase on the corner of seemingly every shopping centre in the UK. So without further ado, meet the people who share the misfortune of accompanying me on my journey to work:
1) An obviously lonely old man gets on the bus two stops before the bus terminates when it would be just as easy to walk it. Most times he gets away without paying and proceeds to witter on at the bus driver about something or other - this morning football was the topic of choice. I don't know why this irritates me so much. I like football and I know if I were in the same position, I would welcome such charity. However, I'm not and so for the 50th time (or something), I contemplate writing to the bus company to tell them their drivers are letting passengers on for no fee. Infinite Lives, the scrooge of the internet!
2) The guy who talks too loud on his mobile phone, without a care in the world. Yes, I know we've all met this guy. However, when you can't blank out his inane ramblings and commentary about which stop he's at now one by one all the way to Horsham, it becomes a completely different matter. I'm just thinking how thankful I am that he doesn't go all the way otherwise I might have to rip his ‘mobee’ from his grasp and flush it down the on-train lavatory.
3) The Chelsea fan. An oldish guy, obviously a workman, wears a beanie hat and several Chelsea badges to go with the daily trawl through the sports pages of the Sun - not even of the intellect to read beyond them. Once the sports pages are done, it's onto his copy of the Official History of Chelsea book recently released. Well, Mr Ibramovich has obviously spent too many pennies in the transfer market so it's time to make poor working class fan pay the price by purchasing this obvious cash-in, shamelessly redesigned and released with the new club logo on it. My how I despise Chelsea! Mourinho I don't mind though - seems like a nice guy. Unfortunately, it's not the latter on the train sitting opposite me when I have no music to listen to.
4) School/College kids. The absolute bane of my journey, even when I can't hear them. Mostly, the train doesn't get too crowded, but somewhere after Horsham and culminating with an onslaught worthy of the final battle in 'The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King' when the train stops at Littlehampton. To think I was once one of these jumped up, self-centered know-it-alls makes me shudder with fear. No, surely I was never this bad. I couldn’t have been. They stare blankly at each other, sit on the tables, chuck random bits of rubbish at each other and smoke without a care in the world and in complete ignorance of the ‘no smoking’ policy. I only wish I were joking. So today’s subjects for conversation were the cheap holiday to ‘Lanzargrotty’ that a group of three girls were going on. They looked forward to meeting and shagging boys, sleeping in, meeting and shagging boys, idling around the pool, clubbing and last (but by no means least) meeting and shagging boys. Oh how I envy them!
This was only rivalled by the young chap who sat opposite. For the best part of three stops (20 minutes), was trying to convince his mate to jump in some river or other without any clothes on. My, how I prayed for leeches, really clingy ones at that!
Really, I could go on, but I may fling myself off the top of the building through the sheer desperation of it all. It fills me with fear and dread that I am bringing my little girl into this world. Obviously, a huge chunk of that statement is said with my tongue planted firmly in my cheek, but there is certainly a part of me that is fiercely protective of B. So, the morale of this story for me is to check, double check and triple check that I have my mp3 player AND sufficient battery power to last the whole journey. The day ended well, with a very nice girl at work lending me her iPod for the trip home. It was a really nice gesture and just goes to show that there are decent people out there if you look carefully enough.
Currently listening to: Nothing (sob).
So yes, Monday morning - the sort of morning when, by dragging yourself out of bed feels like you have accomplished a great deal. I had breakfast, got changed, made my way down the stairs and out the door (via a very nice goodbye kiss from W - the best part of the day). Fumbling in my bag for my bus pass and mp3 player as I made my way to the bus stop, something didn't feel right. It felt a little light. I convinced myself it was nothing - another incident of my shockingly poor start to the day.
I got on the bus, somewhat baffled by the fact that the Oyster card still said £1 credit, even though I was convinced that was what it said on Friday when I had carried out the same task. I sat in my usual seat, surrounded by the same vacuous faces and begun a more thorough inspection of my bag. The cold hard truth soon hit me:
"Oh bugger!" I thought, "I've left my mp3 player at home!"
Now, to some, that probably won't seem like such a big deal. It's only music, right? Well yes, but for the journey I was about to undertake and when you consider how much music means to me (future posts will reflect this and go into much more detail on the subject). I tried to convince myself that it wasn't a big deal. After all, I had a copy of the paper and the Su Doku would keep me busy (bugger, it's Monday - they're dead easy on a Monday). I thought I might take in the sights and sounds of the journey and reflect on them on these very pages. After all, every cloud has a silver lining and it was good to reflect positively on a negative experience. What follows just goes to show you that the silver lining in my specific cloud was obviously knocked up by one of those cheap, imitation places that shady looking chaps sell out of a suitcase on the corner of seemingly every shopping centre in the UK. So without further ado, meet the people who share the misfortune of accompanying me on my journey to work:
1) An obviously lonely old man gets on the bus two stops before the bus terminates when it would be just as easy to walk it. Most times he gets away without paying and proceeds to witter on at the bus driver about something or other - this morning football was the topic of choice. I don't know why this irritates me so much. I like football and I know if I were in the same position, I would welcome such charity. However, I'm not and so for the 50th time (or something), I contemplate writing to the bus company to tell them their drivers are letting passengers on for no fee. Infinite Lives, the scrooge of the internet!
2) The guy who talks too loud on his mobile phone, without a care in the world. Yes, I know we've all met this guy. However, when you can't blank out his inane ramblings and commentary about which stop he's at now one by one all the way to Horsham, it becomes a completely different matter. I'm just thinking how thankful I am that he doesn't go all the way otherwise I might have to rip his ‘mobee’ from his grasp and flush it down the on-train lavatory.
3) The Chelsea fan. An oldish guy, obviously a workman, wears a beanie hat and several Chelsea badges to go with the daily trawl through the sports pages of the Sun - not even of the intellect to read beyond them. Once the sports pages are done, it's onto his copy of the Official History of Chelsea book recently released. Well, Mr Ibramovich has obviously spent too many pennies in the transfer market so it's time to make poor working class fan pay the price by purchasing this obvious cash-in, shamelessly redesigned and released with the new club logo on it. My how I despise Chelsea! Mourinho I don't mind though - seems like a nice guy. Unfortunately, it's not the latter on the train sitting opposite me when I have no music to listen to.
4) School/College kids. The absolute bane of my journey, even when I can't hear them. Mostly, the train doesn't get too crowded, but somewhere after Horsham and culminating with an onslaught worthy of the final battle in 'The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King' when the train stops at Littlehampton. To think I was once one of these jumped up, self-centered know-it-alls makes me shudder with fear. No, surely I was never this bad. I couldn’t have been. They stare blankly at each other, sit on the tables, chuck random bits of rubbish at each other and smoke without a care in the world and in complete ignorance of the ‘no smoking’ policy. I only wish I were joking. So today’s subjects for conversation were the cheap holiday to ‘Lanzargrotty’ that a group of three girls were going on. They looked forward to meeting and shagging boys, sleeping in, meeting and shagging boys, idling around the pool, clubbing and last (but by no means least) meeting and shagging boys. Oh how I envy them!
This was only rivalled by the young chap who sat opposite. For the best part of three stops (20 minutes), was trying to convince his mate to jump in some river or other without any clothes on. My, how I prayed for leeches, really clingy ones at that!
Really, I could go on, but I may fling myself off the top of the building through the sheer desperation of it all. It fills me with fear and dread that I am bringing my little girl into this world. Obviously, a huge chunk of that statement is said with my tongue planted firmly in my cheek, but there is certainly a part of me that is fiercely protective of B. So, the morale of this story for me is to check, double check and triple check that I have my mp3 player AND sufficient battery power to last the whole journey. The day ended well, with a very nice girl at work lending me her iPod for the trip home. It was a really nice gesture and just goes to show that there are decent people out there if you look carefully enough.
Currently listening to: Nothing (sob).
Friday, March 02, 2007
Mother Dearest
My Mum turned the grand old age of 60 recently - quite an achievement. Possibly not, when compared to the stories you hear (with alarming regularity these days) of people surpassing 100 years of age and still base-jumping off Tower Bridge. Still, I am immensely proud of this feat my Mum has reached and I love her to bits. We're not one of those families who are constantly hugging, kissing and professing our love at the drop of a hat. That doesn't mean we don't love each other and wouldn't throw ourselves in front of a car if it meant another family member would be saved. We're just a little more, refined (for want of a better word) about it.
Without going too much into personal details (after all, this is my blog, not hers), my Mum had a fairly tough upbringing, one of 5 siblings in a fairly working class background (she was by far the favourite member of the family for one reason or another). She has worked exceptionally hard to become very successful in what she does, taking time off on three separate occasions to raise me and my two Brothers, while my Dad worked to earn as much as he could for us all. I think how difficult and stressful it has been in B's first year - now multiply that by three! Still, I may still have all this to 'look forward' to.
As teenagers do, most tend to rebel and cause problems and I was no different. My teenage years were tough on me (or so I thought - terribly self-centered, teenagers) and almost unbearable for my parents. I got caught shoplifting on two occasions and, certainly the second time, the look on my Mum and Brother's face when they came to pick me up from the Police Station is something I will never forget - I'm sure if you asked my Mum, she'll probably never forget it either. Late nights out without calling, breaking curfew times without any sort of notification (these were the days before mobile phones remember). It actually got to a point where to guarantee I got home, my Mum had to come and pick me up from school.
Of course hindsight is a wonderful thing and if I could turn back the clock and do it a lot differently, I would. Now, I am a lot older and a lot wiser, with a child of my own, I can't help but think about how I will fair as a parent to teenager(s). I certainly have a lot of life experience to take on before then as, quite frankly, at the moment, I think I will probably fail miserably. Fingers crossed that B is more like her Mother than her Father as a teenager.
Despite some fairly traumatic ups and downs, my Mum and Dad seem happy and contented as they move forward into their retirement years. They have three lovely Grandchildren (although W and I both hope the next one is a boy - it would be lovely to continue the family name beyond my generation) and despite them losing all their parents at a relatively early age, I really do hope they go on to live healthy and happy lives way beyond when they give up work.
For the last part of her Birthday celebration, we're all (B-less of course) heading off to the theatre on Sunday to see 'The Lion King.' I'm not hugely big on musicals, but then it's not for my benefit. I'm sure I will enjoy it thoroughly and who knows, you may even get to see a review on these pages in the coming weeks. As long as my fantastic Mum enjoys it, who gives a damn!
Without going too much into personal details (after all, this is my blog, not hers), my Mum had a fairly tough upbringing, one of 5 siblings in a fairly working class background (she was by far the favourite member of the family for one reason or another). She has worked exceptionally hard to become very successful in what she does, taking time off on three separate occasions to raise me and my two Brothers, while my Dad worked to earn as much as he could for us all. I think how difficult and stressful it has been in B's first year - now multiply that by three! Still, I may still have all this to 'look forward' to.
As teenagers do, most tend to rebel and cause problems and I was no different. My teenage years were tough on me (or so I thought - terribly self-centered, teenagers) and almost unbearable for my parents. I got caught shoplifting on two occasions and, certainly the second time, the look on my Mum and Brother's face when they came to pick me up from the Police Station is something I will never forget - I'm sure if you asked my Mum, she'll probably never forget it either. Late nights out without calling, breaking curfew times without any sort of notification (these were the days before mobile phones remember). It actually got to a point where to guarantee I got home, my Mum had to come and pick me up from school.
Of course hindsight is a wonderful thing and if I could turn back the clock and do it a lot differently, I would. Now, I am a lot older and a lot wiser, with a child of my own, I can't help but think about how I will fair as a parent to teenager(s). I certainly have a lot of life experience to take on before then as, quite frankly, at the moment, I think I will probably fail miserably. Fingers crossed that B is more like her Mother than her Father as a teenager.
Despite some fairly traumatic ups and downs, my Mum and Dad seem happy and contented as they move forward into their retirement years. They have three lovely Grandchildren (although W and I both hope the next one is a boy - it would be lovely to continue the family name beyond my generation) and despite them losing all their parents at a relatively early age, I really do hope they go on to live healthy and happy lives way beyond when they give up work.
For the last part of her Birthday celebration, we're all (B-less of course) heading off to the theatre on Sunday to see 'The Lion King.' I'm not hugely big on musicals, but then it's not for my benefit. I'm sure I will enjoy it thoroughly and who knows, you may even get to see a review on these pages in the coming weeks. As long as my fantastic Mum enjoys it, who gives a damn!
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Absence Makes My Heart Break Longer
Only two weeks into looking after B, and our child minder is swanning off on holiday. Of course I don't mean this to sound as disparaging as it probably does, as the child minder did check with us first (it was her only chance to see her Dad this year as he lives abroad). Additionally, the cold hard truth of all of this is that this saves us money - provided we could make alternative arrangements. Cue the tapping up of relatives : - )
As luck would have it, W's Mum had arranged some time off to coincide with half term. She jumped at the chance to look after her (as we knew she would - she adores B and regularly finds reasons to come over and visit). B already has a knack of turning on the charm when she needs to and this is even before she knows what she is doing. I'm thinking a high-powered job beckons for her, directing people from up high and getting the underlings to do her bidding. As long as she gets paid a huge wedge of cash which enables her father to be the oldest professional videogame player on record, then I'm happy. Before the complaints come flying in across cyberspace, yes, of course I am kidding!
I must admit I was slightly annoyed that this would mean a change in routine for B already. It's hard enough for a small child to deal with being separated from her Mother, to then chuck it all up in the air again. Still, she would be spending most of her time at our home anyway, so it was not as bad as, say, giving her to another child minder.
Yes, I did say 'most' there, as on two of the days, she would be up at Gran's (furthermore referred to as 'G'). This involved a routine of such military precision, it would put many Army Generals to shame (to which W must take a bow). B was picked up in the morning by G at the train station near where W works and, during rush hour, getting the train and tube to where G lives. Unsurprisingly, this didn't pose any sort of problem for B and, according to G, she happily grinned at as many commuters as possible and made them all feel uncomfortable (isn't that just one of the best things about small children? They can stare out even the most hardened of Hypnotists without even so much as a flinch). Suffice to say, the tube journey was just as easy, with B even hanging on to one of the grab rails all from the comfort of her buggy.
As luck would have it, W's Mum had arranged some time off to coincide with half term. She jumped at the chance to look after her (as we knew she would - she adores B and regularly finds reasons to come over and visit). B already has a knack of turning on the charm when she needs to and this is even before she knows what she is doing. I'm thinking a high-powered job beckons for her, directing people from up high and getting the underlings to do her bidding. As long as she gets paid a huge wedge of cash which enables her father to be the oldest professional videogame player on record, then I'm happy. Before the complaints come flying in across cyberspace, yes, of course I am kidding!
I must admit I was slightly annoyed that this would mean a change in routine for B already. It's hard enough for a small child to deal with being separated from her Mother, to then chuck it all up in the air again. Still, she would be spending most of her time at our home anyway, so it was not as bad as, say, giving her to another child minder.
Yes, I did say 'most' there, as on two of the days, she would be up at Gran's (furthermore referred to as 'G'). This involved a routine of such military precision, it would put many Army Generals to shame (to which W must take a bow). B was picked up in the morning by G at the train station near where W works and, during rush hour, getting the train and tube to where G lives. Unsurprisingly, this didn't pose any sort of problem for B and, according to G, she happily grinned at as many commuters as possible and made them all feel uncomfortable (isn't that just one of the best things about small children? They can stare out even the most hardened of Hypnotists without even so much as a flinch). Suffice to say, the tube journey was just as easy, with B even hanging on to one of the grab rails all from the comfort of her buggy.
A passenger, obviously faking sleep to avoid eye contact with B - probably.
I must admit, I was slightly nervous about the whole thing, as I got further and further away from her on the train to work so I was indeed a relieved man when I heard about the above shenanigans on public transport and again when I heard that she had made it to her destination safely. I assume it's just a parent thing to be unnecessarily concerned about the welfare of your child when you don't have complete and utter control over everything. It's a strange thought to know that as long as I live, that feeling will never go away.
So, with B sorted at G's place and work done and dusted (yes, nothing interesting happened unsurprisingly), my thoughts turned to the evening. W had taken full advantage of our evening off and booked a table at a restaurant. As the day had drifted by, I found myself getting more and more excited about it all and (gasp) even looking forward to the train journey. Halfway through the trip, I was taken over by a feeling that I hadn't expected - a feeling of dread. For it had finally dawned on me that my little girl would not be waiting for me at the other end and my total time until I next saw her would almost be 48 hours. I felt like my heart was going to break in two. I got off the train and, head slightly slumped, I shuffled my feet one after the other down the two flights of stairs and poked my ticket in the general direction of the machine (as luck would have it, my aim was good and the barrier sprung open).
Of course it was not all bad. W was there waiting for me and we had some time to ourselves, but the entrance hall had never felt so empty. We both had the same look on our faces - we missed her so much! A welcome kiss and a hug made things a lot better though. We walked to the car and headed home, talking about how weird it felt to not have this small person with us - someone who has been a part of our everyday lives for over 9 months. Never has the phrase 'you don't know what you have until it's gone' been more apt.
After talking about it, I certainly felt a lot better and once we had got in, I realised, somewhat guilt-filled, that the flat was empty and all my time was mine again! No playing with B, no bath for B, no changing for B and no feeding and putting to bed for B! I sprung through the flat, sending cats off in various random directions. I fired up the Xbox 360 and on went Pro Evolution Soccer 6 (more about this very soon). W put on the laptop and we begun to get comfortable. Almost too comfortable, for our 'lazy' gene begun to kick in.
Fortunately, W is stronger willed than I am and after a couple of games (defeats of course), we got ready and went out. I'm glad we did though as the restaurant was lovely and the food was plentiful. It shows that the Chilli Con Carne that I make at home is at the spice level known as 'wuss.' I had Chilli Meatballs and they were hot! This served me well as it helped clear the remnants of a cold away into the night sky. I also discovered a combination that I must revisit - cabbage and bacon. We had it as a side dish and it really did surprise me. So full was I that I could not even find space for dessert or coffee (hangs head in shame).
We went back to our empty flat, having had an excellent night out. I played a bit more PES6, and W trawled the internet looking for bargains on Ebay. We didn't stay up too late, as it was a school night. B spent the following day at G's, but was waiting for me at the station that evening, arms flapping, possibly creating a small tornado in the process. I felt complete again.
While I did miss her while she was away, I think it is definitely important to spend time away from B every now and then. It gives W and I a chance to be people as well as parents and I look forward to the next time we can do it.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
"Time Goes By See What's Become Of Me...."
More than a little time has passed since the last time I posted. Apologies for that first and foremost. Life has been a bit hectic in the last couple of weeks. One or two bad things happened at work, which have led to me keeping somewhat of a low profile online in these last couple of weeks. Of course, I am completely to blame for these things going wrong and in a way I'm glad they have happened as it's taught me a valuable lesson - namely, don't bite the hand that feeds you.
Somewhat resultant of that has led me to being a bit happier at work. I still won't say it's the best job in the world (far from it), but I remember leaving work one day a week or so ago and having this funny feeling take over me, leaving me to feel exhilarated and happy for no apparent reason. After some thought about what might be causing this phenomenon (other than the fact that the two loves of my life would be waiting for me at the other end of the journey), I realise this is what people call 'job satisfaction!' I had done a productive days work and I felt great about it. I would certainly like more of that please! Still, I am continuing to look for something else a little closer to home though. I don't mind the journey so much, but I do mind the cost of the journey. Which leads me on to my next subject.
W has returned to work and has just started her third week. I'm pleased that she is enjoying it so much and we're all hoping that something more full time comes of it. Everything crossed. Obviously, with that comes a problem as B cannot look after herself just yet (I know she is bright and articulate and (*shudder*) finally mobile, but it's still a little early yet). Typically last minute, W and myself left sorting a child minder out until the last minute, but to cut a long story short, we were successful in our search and B seems quite settled now. However, we could do without the £40 a day fees. I'm still not sure we are going to be able to afford it. Simply put, we have to - everything must go if need be.
As for how it all went, the first few weeks were predictably problematic, with B crying the minute she was handed over and her not sleeping very well in the day. However, we seem to be approaching some form of normality now.
We hope.
I must say that W adapted into her new role much better than I did. I'm so proud of her! Handing B over to a stranger in the morning can't be the easiest thing in the world to do. I know I would struggle. With her new job only being short term, she doesn't have the time to settle in that I did, let alone deal with all the emotion of being out of work for an extended period of time - she just has to get on with it. I have so much admiration for her for fitting everything in. My day is not as frantic, with long periods where I am just sat on the train, reading free trashy papers, scrawling numbers into small 3 by 3 boxes and listening to Radio 2 drop in and out of range, just as a decent song comes on!
There has been a bit of illness too. I have been ill for the last week and a bit. However, I haven't been lucky enough to have the time off as while I am in my 6-month probation period, I do not get paid and I can't afford to not get paid. So basically the Lemsip people are very happy with me as I seemed to be flying through the stuff. I know, like Marmite, you either love or hate Lemsip. I'm in the former of the two camps and would happily drink it day in and day out. I'm coming out the other side of the illness now, just in time for my Birthday weekend - yay me!
I promise I won't leave it so long next time.
Somewhat resultant of that has led me to being a bit happier at work. I still won't say it's the best job in the world (far from it), but I remember leaving work one day a week or so ago and having this funny feeling take over me, leaving me to feel exhilarated and happy for no apparent reason. After some thought about what might be causing this phenomenon (other than the fact that the two loves of my life would be waiting for me at the other end of the journey), I realise this is what people call 'job satisfaction!' I had done a productive days work and I felt great about it. I would certainly like more of that please! Still, I am continuing to look for something else a little closer to home though. I don't mind the journey so much, but I do mind the cost of the journey. Which leads me on to my next subject.
W has returned to work and has just started her third week. I'm pleased that she is enjoying it so much and we're all hoping that something more full time comes of it. Everything crossed. Obviously, with that comes a problem as B cannot look after herself just yet (I know she is bright and articulate and (*shudder*) finally mobile, but it's still a little early yet). Typically last minute, W and myself left sorting a child minder out until the last minute, but to cut a long story short, we were successful in our search and B seems quite settled now. However, we could do without the £40 a day fees. I'm still not sure we are going to be able to afford it. Simply put, we have to - everything must go if need be.
As for how it all went, the first few weeks were predictably problematic, with B crying the minute she was handed over and her not sleeping very well in the day. However, we seem to be approaching some form of normality now.
We hope.
I must say that W adapted into her new role much better than I did. I'm so proud of her! Handing B over to a stranger in the morning can't be the easiest thing in the world to do. I know I would struggle. With her new job only being short term, she doesn't have the time to settle in that I did, let alone deal with all the emotion of being out of work for an extended period of time - she just has to get on with it. I have so much admiration for her for fitting everything in. My day is not as frantic, with long periods where I am just sat on the train, reading free trashy papers, scrawling numbers into small 3 by 3 boxes and listening to Radio 2 drop in and out of range, just as a decent song comes on!
There has been a bit of illness too. I have been ill for the last week and a bit. However, I haven't been lucky enough to have the time off as while I am in my 6-month probation period, I do not get paid and I can't afford to not get paid. So basically the Lemsip people are very happy with me as I seemed to be flying through the stuff. I know, like Marmite, you either love or hate Lemsip. I'm in the former of the two camps and would happily drink it day in and day out. I'm coming out the other side of the illness now, just in time for my Birthday weekend - yay me!
I promise I won't leave it so long next time.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Anonymity
Once I had made the decision to start a blog, another question quickly came to the front that would need addressing pretty quickly. The question of anonymity. Reading Emily's Blog, she uses real names (or at least I think she does, I have never read all of her posts). Just to mention, if you've never read it before, do yourself a favour and bookmark it/add it to your RSS. She has a wonderful way with words and, as a relatively new Father, it's a fascinating insight into the problems/delights she has enjoyed as a Mum. I thank my wife for tuning me in to it.
My wife has a blog of her own, and has chosen to make it anonymous. I love writing (and have thankfully recently rediscovered this) and I have a tendency to go headfirst into something if I really believe in it - being a Piscean, I'm definitely a bit of a romantic dreamer. The downside of this is that sometimes, a bit of caution is most certainly a good idea and I have got myself hurt in the past.
Modern times call for a more cautious attitude. Unlike before, it is not just me that is at risk of getting hurt as a result of my (previous) openness. So, with that, I'm going to go with a more anonymous approach. Therefore, I will be referring to my wife as W and my little girl as B.
Hopefully, this won't be too much of a problem when it comes to reading (if anyone, indeed does read this). Even if they don't, it is a much needed method of getting all the stuff I process in my head out and onto a (web) page.
So, onwards, without any sign of a group of heroic indiviuals riding into a glorious sunset. Well, not just yet.....
My wife has a blog of her own, and has chosen to make it anonymous. I love writing (and have thankfully recently rediscovered this) and I have a tendency to go headfirst into something if I really believe in it - being a Piscean, I'm definitely a bit of a romantic dreamer. The downside of this is that sometimes, a bit of caution is most certainly a good idea and I have got myself hurt in the past.
Modern times call for a more cautious attitude. Unlike before, it is not just me that is at risk of getting hurt as a result of my (previous) openness. So, with that, I'm going to go with a more anonymous approach. Therefore, I will be referring to my wife as W and my little girl as B.
Hopefully, this won't be too much of a problem when it comes to reading (if anyone, indeed does read this). Even if they don't, it is a much needed method of getting all the stuff I process in my head out and onto a (web) page.
So, onwards, without any sign of a group of heroic indiviuals riding into a glorious sunset. Well, not just yet.....
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Train of Thought
I'm starting this blog, typing in the office which I work in near the south coast of the UK. It's not very high up, but I can hear the wind outside and it doesn't sound as though it's here for a jelly and ice cream party. It sounds seriously miffed. I really hope that this building was built well otherwise 'Infinite Lives' may well be the shortest blog in the history of the blogging phenomenon. I am fascinated by the weather and nature though. The weather does seem to have a slight case of schizophrenia of recent. How much of this is due to climate change, I'm not sure. We have had some extreme weather though in the past year and I, for one, would not like to experience a summer like the one we just have again. My daughter was only a matter of months old at the time. The usual recommendation is to put babies to sleep with at least one more layer than you. Well, I'm sorry, it was 35°C (AT NIGHT!) All my wife and I could do was put her to bed in a nappy and a short baby-gro. Unsurprisingly, she was not phased by this and slept through without worry. Her parents, well that's a different matter altogether. Let’s just say if the job of a lifetime came up and meant we’d have to move to Australia, I would have to consider it seriously. Well, that, or invest in some sort of Mr Freeze ice suit.
As I said, I work near the south coast and have done for the last three months. Unfortunately for me, that's not where I live. The journey to work in the morning is a long one. I leave the house just after 6:30am to (just) get in to work for 9. Of course a lot of that is spent sitting on my backside on one form of public transport or another. It’s still quite a stressful experience as the longer I travel, the further away I get from my fantastic wife and daughter. I have managed to do a few things to occupy my time though. The ‘Metro’ paper, while not the best printed media ever produced, is (a) free and (b) enough of a distraction to wipe out about ¼ of the journey. It also contains a sudoku puzzle which I enjoy doing. If nothing else, it gets my rusty brain working, when, for most of the morning, it’s chastising me for not still being in bed.
I can also (just about) doze in and out of consciousness for an additional half of the journey, which is something I never thought would be possible. Southern’s inability to provide comfy pillows is something I urge them to address at the next board meeting though. It would make the £190 a month less of a trauma to part with every month. Especially, when I think of how many gadgets that could get me : - )
By far the best thing about the journey though is it has re-ignited my love of music. While I was growing up, especially during my teens and twenties, I was FANATICAL about music. I would spend nearly all my wages (and any other currency I could get my grubby mitts on) on 7-inch’s (god, I feel old), CD’s, gigs and assorted musical paraphernalia. I was possibly wholly responsible for keeping the industry afloat! I’m not sure when it all went quiet though. My wife and I don’t have much in common musically and, rather naively I think, I always thought that the principle thing I would have in common with any potential spouse would be music. It just doesn’t always pan out that way. So, in the car (we don’t really listen to music at home), I just plump for Radio 2 or Virgin.
However, my mp3 player has a feast of pleasures on it and I still have stacks of space to fill. I have a Creative Zen Vision M (30Gb) and it is the best thing ever! Suffice to say that through the course of this blog, you will undoubtedly receive recommendations and, heck, there may even be the odd review or two thrown in.
One thing I know is that if it wasn't for my music, I probably would have lost my sanity not long into my three-month service.
Currently listening to:
Asobi Seksu: Citrus
Foo Fighters: The Colour and the Shape
As I said, I work near the south coast and have done for the last three months. Unfortunately for me, that's not where I live. The journey to work in the morning is a long one. I leave the house just after 6:30am to (just) get in to work for 9. Of course a lot of that is spent sitting on my backside on one form of public transport or another. It’s still quite a stressful experience as the longer I travel, the further away I get from my fantastic wife and daughter. I have managed to do a few things to occupy my time though. The ‘Metro’ paper, while not the best printed media ever produced, is (a) free and (b) enough of a distraction to wipe out about ¼ of the journey. It also contains a sudoku puzzle which I enjoy doing. If nothing else, it gets my rusty brain working, when, for most of the morning, it’s chastising me for not still being in bed.
I can also (just about) doze in and out of consciousness for an additional half of the journey, which is something I never thought would be possible. Southern’s inability to provide comfy pillows is something I urge them to address at the next board meeting though. It would make the £190 a month less of a trauma to part with every month. Especially, when I think of how many gadgets that could get me : - )
By far the best thing about the journey though is it has re-ignited my love of music. While I was growing up, especially during my teens and twenties, I was FANATICAL about music. I would spend nearly all my wages (and any other currency I could get my grubby mitts on) on 7-inch’s (god, I feel old), CD’s, gigs and assorted musical paraphernalia. I was possibly wholly responsible for keeping the industry afloat! I’m not sure when it all went quiet though. My wife and I don’t have much in common musically and, rather naively I think, I always thought that the principle thing I would have in common with any potential spouse would be music. It just doesn’t always pan out that way. So, in the car (we don’t really listen to music at home), I just plump for Radio 2 or Virgin.
However, my mp3 player has a feast of pleasures on it and I still have stacks of space to fill. I have a Creative Zen Vision M (30Gb) and it is the best thing ever! Suffice to say that through the course of this blog, you will undoubtedly receive recommendations and, heck, there may even be the odd review or two thrown in.
One thing I know is that if it wasn't for my music, I probably would have lost my sanity not long into my three-month service.
Currently listening to:
Asobi Seksu: Citrus
Foo Fighters: The Colour and the Shape
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Introductions and Definitions
Welcome to Infinite Lives.
So, why did I decide to start a blog and why call it Infinite Lives? Well, I used to avidly write a diary when I was younger and used to enjoy reading back over the years to see how much has changed. Looking back, I really was the centre of my own universe! A bit of a jumped-up know-it-all. However, time takes it toll and I lost interest in writing when I went through a bit of a dark patch in my life.
Of course, I wish I could turn back time so I could continue writing, but unfortunately, there's never a DeLorean time machine hanging around when you want one.
Why 'Infinite Lives'? Well, (raises hand) I'm proud to be a nerdy geek-type person and have been playing video games since I was about 6 years old. So (gulp), I'll be celebrating my 30-year anniversary as a gamer this year. That's an awful lot of hours, and possibly something not worth contemplating on a grander scale. 'Infinite Lives' is notoriously one of the more popular cheats that gamers have tried to use to get past a particular problem.
Furthermore, when the mind tends to wander (as it seems to a fair bit), I think about what I would be like if I would have done things differently. There's no regret in that statement at all. I'm very happy with my life, of which you will find out more about over the coming weeks. I wonder what I would be like in various alternate lives - it would be great to find out, so infinite lives is tied in to that as well.
So, anyway, welcome along - I'll try to keep a steady flow of content going, but feel free to nag me if radio silence seems to have been maintained for a little too long.
Currently listening to:
Tahiti 80: Fun Fair (off 'Wallpaper For The Soul')
So, why did I decide to start a blog and why call it Infinite Lives? Well, I used to avidly write a diary when I was younger and used to enjoy reading back over the years to see how much has changed. Looking back, I really was the centre of my own universe! A bit of a jumped-up know-it-all. However, time takes it toll and I lost interest in writing when I went through a bit of a dark patch in my life.
Of course, I wish I could turn back time so I could continue writing, but unfortunately, there's never a DeLorean time machine hanging around when you want one.
Why 'Infinite Lives'? Well, (raises hand) I'm proud to be a nerdy geek-type person and have been playing video games since I was about 6 years old. So (gulp), I'll be celebrating my 30-year anniversary as a gamer this year. That's an awful lot of hours, and possibly something not worth contemplating on a grander scale. 'Infinite Lives' is notoriously one of the more popular cheats that gamers have tried to use to get past a particular problem.
Furthermore, when the mind tends to wander (as it seems to a fair bit), I think about what I would be like if I would have done things differently. There's no regret in that statement at all. I'm very happy with my life, of which you will find out more about over the coming weeks. I wonder what I would be like in various alternate lives - it would be great to find out, so infinite lives is tied in to that as well.
So, anyway, welcome along - I'll try to keep a steady flow of content going, but feel free to nag me if radio silence seems to have been maintained for a little too long.
Currently listening to:
Tahiti 80: Fun Fair (off 'Wallpaper For The Soul')
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