Journal Entries
First day of 40
Posted Sep 20, 2007
[with apologies to Skankyrich, whose suspiciously similar journal I have most evidently ripped off!]
So, that was my first day of being 40.
The alarm went off, and I got up with a spring in my step (and a worrying creaking in my ankles) without hitting the snooze button 3 times like I usually do. I momentarily considered experimenting yet again with the idea of not setting the alarm any more and just waking up, but figured that to get away with that convincingly I'd have to be back in a hotel in Cardiff in either one of their rooms at the front with the single glazing and the noisy road, or one one of their rooms at the back with the paper thin floors and the kitchen directly below. I concluded that Jersey is too quiet for 'just waking up', and that maybe I'd give that another go next year.
Then the nippers phoned to sing "happy birthday" at me. They went to school in Devon, and I stayed here on the Channel Islands.
I decided to shake things up a bit and iron a shirt _before_ breakfast. Not only would I iron it now, but I would iron it in the way that the missus has insisted for 15 years is the 'proper way' to iron a shirt, and not how I've done it since my teens. I did this, and after a detailed inspection of my work, concluded that there is no difference in either quality or speed of either approach, but that I will continue from now on to iron it the 'proper way', just because I will.
While I was in the kitchen I popped the kettle on to make a cup of tea. This is something I haven't done for 9 months, having decided on Jan 1st to give up caffeine for a week, and having lasted this long.
Then an interesting thing happened.
I strode purposefully to the bathroom and had a cup of tea while in the shower. This didn't turn out to be half as awkward as I expected, and I cheerily raised my cup to the founder of this grand idea.
I also decided not to shave. Not because I didn't have time, but because I didn't feel like it.
Next, I had a fry-up. This was unusual in that my regular idea of a mid-week fry-up is to choose 'full English breakfast' from the hotel menu, or at a stretch to choose 'breakfast in a box' from a cafe menu. Never have I cooked my own mid-week fry-up. It went surprisingly well.
I glugged down half a pint of grapefruit juice and went to work. Nobody noticed it was my birthday, which was just as well because a cake round for 60 people at Jersey prices doesn't bear thinking about.
I got back at lunch time and had a quick look on F*cebook. The missus had left me a decidedly ageist message to which I still haven't thought of a witty retort. I also had a quick look on Hootoo and noticed that the Underguide had picked my recent AWW entry as a Gem of the Month, so I was over the moon.
Later that evening I was on the phone to my dad when my mum mentioned in the background that I would actually be exactly 40 in another 25 minutes and my dad said he'd raise a glass, and look he had a glass of milk at the ready, what with it being bed time, and said that this is what I had to look forward to in 25 years time.
25 minutes later I was on the phone to the missus and I was exactly 40, and still not feeling a day older than maybe about somewhere in my 20s - except for the creaking ankles and presumably my car insurance is now even cheaper.
I popped Howard Jones' Piano Solos For Friends And Loved Ones on iTunes for a bit.
Then I had a look at some bits of Colin McRae video on YouTube and grinned and cheered and cried.
Then went to bed. And switched the alarm off and decided to give 'just waking up' a go after all.
Paff
Discuss this Journal entry [15]
Latest reply: Sep 20, 2007
Perseid camp
Posted Aug 13, 2007
This was the plan:
Me, the missus and the nippers would chuck the tent in the back of the car, pop on to Dartmoor, pitch up slap bang in the middle of nowhere and watch some meteors.
This was the reality:
Chucked the tent in. Thought we should also bring the stove, and some cups, and tea bags, and milk and cereal for the morning, oh and bowls, and a pack of cards, and the poker chips, and the green baize mat thing, and the fold-up table, and the fold-up chairs, and some washing stuff, and a change of clothes. Oh, and the dog.
Ought to bring the camera too. And have a quick look on the web for tips on photographing meteors. And bring the tripod, and a spare battery.
Chucked all of that in. (Crammed it in, more like).
Decided against Meldon (10 mins drive) for Princetown (45 mins drive) where we could get a decent evening meal and breakfast. Kept the cereal bowls packed, just in case.
Started out on our 45 min drive, but stopped off at every petrol station and camp site on the way to attempt to purchase gas canister for stove. No luck. Arrived at Plume of Feathers almost 2 hours later.
Pitched tent. Decided to go for pub meal. Just then a coachload of grannies was dropped off. Grannies got to all the tables first. It was standing room only. Went back, got in car, drove up to Postbridge, then down to Ashburton, then down the A38 to Plymouth where we ended up in a Mexican restaurant we know in the Barbican.
Arrived back at Princetown around 10:30pm. Were shocked to find that the nearby North Hessary tv mast was giving off huge amounts of light pollution, all being reflected off some very low cloud/fog.
Got back to the tent. It started to rain. Decided just to bed down, and maybe wake up in a few hours and check to see if fog and cloud had cleared.
Then Wayne and Waynetta Slob arrived back at their tent next to ours. They proceeded to spend most of the night f-ing and blinding, spilling beer on their tent, setting it alight with their fags, arguing over whether Wayne would empty his bladder _inside_ the tent or not, and then falling asleep and snoring like troopers.
It kept raining. All night.
Woke up (after not really sleeping) cold and uncomfortable at 7am. Thick fog outside. Packed up all of the stuff we hadn't used. Didn't bother washing. Didn't bother with breakfast at the Plume.
Drove home. Had breakfast. Went to bed.Paff
Discuss this Journal entry [4]
Latest reply: Aug 13, 2007
Learning to type ... again
Posted Jul 20, 2007
I learned to type about 23 years ago (blimey, how old does that make me? Don't answer that).
I was a bit handy at it, and finished my RSA stage 1 with half hour to spare.
However, we learnt on good old fashioned typewriters (blimey, how old does that make me? Don't...) so I was always a bit slack with using the little fingers, particularly for holding down the shift key.
Slowly over the years my typing has gone totally to pot. I blame computers and the Ctrl-Alt-Shift key combinations, and the Windows key, and the cursor keys, and the numeric keypad, etc, etc. But then, a bad workman always blames his tools.
A few weeks ago I decided to re-learn. I started by typing 'y' with my right hand again (in fact I was getting as far across as 'o' with my left hand sometimes 
). Then I concentrated on using little fingers for 'q' 'a' 'z' (you really wouldn't believe how much I use 'q' in my line of work). In the last couple of days I've been typing 'p' and '/' with my little finger again.
There's been a fair amount of pain involved (mental, and also some RSI in my right hand).
It seems to be paying off though. Just a couple of minutes ago I rattled out a posting and noticed I was using mostly the right keys _and_ I was not far off my previously quick-but-incorrect speed.
I'm sitting here now, typing away and feeling quite pleased with myself. 
Paff
Note to self: must start using the correct fingers for the '<' and '>' on those smileys.
Discuss this Journal entry [10]
Latest reply: Jul 20, 2007
The Jinx of Paff
Posted Jul 18, 2007
This may explain a few things: A24919130
Discuss this Journal entry [5]
Latest reply: Jul 18, 2007
Goth
Posted Jun 28, 2007
Just listening to Fields of the Nephilim. Blimey, I can only hack about 20 minutes of that stuff before it gets too much nowadays.
Gonna try a bit of Bauhaus instead.
Paff
Discuss this Journal entry [1]
Latest reply: Jun 28, 2007
aGuyCalledPaff
Researcher U1522321
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