james

Plastic Dancing

If you were at The Krazyhouse, Liverpool on Saturday night, particularly if you were mixing it on K1, then you might remember me as the one looking like a banana plant gently wafting in the breeze in the middle of the floor. I am sorry for looking like an inanimate lump of plasticine.

I am a lover of music, but it doesn’t really inspire me to move parts of my body. I learned on Saturday night that that makes me strange. For the most part, the music that filled the room was of various metal-based genres, which at the very least warrants some head-banging. Other genres of music require more gentile body movements (like line-dancing, for instance). I meet all types of music with the same whimsical nodding of the head, a gentle tapping of the foot, and occasionally staring at the ceiling to appreciate where I am and what I am listening to.

That does, however, mean it appears I am bored and dislike the music. That is not the case. But it does make me look a right wally. But I don’t care too much about looking a twit (just as well, really). The important thing was seeing my friends again, and I am hugely grateful for that short time.

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Let’s Play

Today was a peculiar day (mind, aren’t they all?!), largely down to the BUPA Great North Run. It reminded me of my desire to raise money for charity – making myself useful. Nick jokingly said I should cycle from London to Newcastle, which I did momentarily consider.

I courted the idea with a few friends, and inevitably they were skeptical, and I felt the organisation and preparation would have been too much. Then James texted me, asking me whether I had taken part in the Great North Run – I’m guessing jokingly. I then found myself making plans on entering the run next year. That was unexpected.

So now I’m looking at gym prices, but it hardly seems fair to pay to be led into a dictatorship. So, once I have running shoes, a sweaty t-shirt and almost-revealingly-short shorts, I’m going it alone! Pass me a banana.

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The Duck And Rabbit

It’s always good to see the old gang; and indeed the new gang. I met Nick’s girlfriend Belle for the first time, and she is very pleasant.

The holiday took a more casual tone this time round, largely down to the fact that everyone had some sort of ailment at some point in the holiday. Nick, Belle and I seemed to have picked up the same bug; Donna was a bit poorly; and Pete ran into the squash court, quite literally.

Quite a collection of wildlife came to us in our villa: various kinds of duck – including “Geordie Duck”, a black and white variety – moorhen, rabbits and a fawn came to the rear door. The ducks were rather friendly too, to the point that some were willing to eat bread out of my hand.

The beauty in going to Center Parcs at this time is that only parents with very young children are there, and the place is by far more peaceful. It meant that for much of the time there were tennis courts and badminton courts free. We should have paid really, but for the most part we didn’t bother. It did mean my badminton arm improved… slightly. My cricket arm didn’t, however.

Looking forward to next year already!

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Round Trip

I went to Sittingbourne on Sunday in time for Pete’s 21st birthday. We went on a pub crawl around Minster, which was better than the rest of us had anticipated. It was quiet, but thoroughly enjoyable. None of us got that drunk apart from Carly, who remembers very little about her tirades and losing her shoe.

I stayed for Monday too. I spent much of the day in Herne Bay, at Pete, Donna and Russell’s new place. We went off to play crazy golf on the seafront; I lost to James by five shots, though that was largely down to playing the ball out of bounds. And that couldn’t have been my fault…

In the last leg of my return journey I took the bus back home to Cramlington. We didn’t get far before someone else on the top deck began complaining to the bus driver about some unruly children. I believe they were throwing around bits of newspaper, being mouthy and swearing. The bus driver pulled over, came up to warn the children, but to no avail. He started driving again but the kids continued, and the bloke went down to complain again. The bus pulled over, but soon set off again. The man came back up and shouted, "The only reason why the driver won’t chuck you off is because you’re kids!"

So this probably wasn’t the best example of how to treat a mutiny on the bus.

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Update

It has now been far too long since I made a post. This is not indicative of the constant source of entertainment that is my life!

Last week I stayed in Kent – Herne Bay to be more precise, at my good old friend Pete’s house. Although it was an enjoyable stay as always, my time there was a little too short (again, as always). So many places to go, so many places to see, so many other things going on, in the end it feels like I didn’t do much at all.

I arrived on the Monday (just – nearly every form of public transport I used that day was late). Pete, Donna and I ‘did’ the seafront. This consisted of walking up and down the prom with chips and ice cream, with a healthy exchange of north-south banter. I did not see any kangaroos down there, unfortunately.

On Tuesday, I went to a revision lecture. It would seem that Pete takes everyone to his lectures. I got an overview of probability theory, of which I had mostly forgotten. Perhaps it was worthwhile that I went, though I cannot recall anything of substance from that hour. After that we wandered down to Canterbury City Centre and wandered in and out of shops. I bought Six Degrees Of Inner Turbulence by Dream Theater for £6. We went to Whittards and had the best cup of tea ever. That evening we went back to Canterbury to enjoy the pubs and bars. We went to Origins, a bar located within the Darwin halls of residence at the University of Kent. That was quite good, but no cheaper than an ordinary bar in Newcastle… After an hour or two (I forget which) we moved onto the city centre. Six of us in one Ford Fiesta led to the inevitable muggins in the boot. Louis ensured the route involved speed bumps. That was interesting…

On Wednesday, Pete, Donna and I managed to traverse most of the North Kent coastline. We got to Whitstable, somehow. We were also surprised to hear many explosions around. On Thursday, we were meant to be playing cricket in the morning, but the county cricket people let us down. Instead we wandered off to Bluewater. Surprisingly, the extent of my expenditure did not extend to anything beyond a buffet meal at Pizza Hut. Was nice. I then used my charm and desperation to ask James to take me to my grandparents’ house for a quick visit. It was nice to see them, but I suspect it annoyed everyone involved to some degree that afternoon.

On Saturday, having arrived back the previous day, I went and got my brand spanking new glasses. They required some getting used to, but now they seem to be doing the job. Yesterday I got my hair cut for the first time in over two years. I quite like it. And I am reassured in that I am not the only one who can’t get my hair to do what I want with it.

I think that just about brings us up to date!

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Collisions And Consequences

Hi guys, check out Collisions And Consequences, of which a fair few of the band are good friends of mine! Go listen!

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Catch-21

First things first! Happy Birthday to James, who is 21 today. Many Happy Returns to Jayne, who is also 21 today.

So… a quick update. Japan is more or less sorted now. I just have to work out how I’m getting to Heathrow. No way is easy or without risk. That is unless I travel down the night before and stay at Heathrow from 8pm to 1pm the next day. And that is only workable if Newcastle United v Arsenal is not televised – which I very much doubt.

Never mind. I’m sure it will work out…

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Defragmenting

I love my analogies. I created one today to describe how defragmenter works on your computer:

Your computer goes obsessive compulsive, and arranges the cans in your kitchen cupboard so that you have baked beans in one place, spaghetti hoops in another, and custard elsewhere and so on. It also turns the cans so that the labels are at the front so the computer knows what is where so it can find its dinner more quickly… It also puts labels on where they have fallen off (which is rather clever) to speed up menu selection.

Basically the computer rearranges stuff so it knows where it all is so it can get the stuff it wants more quickly.

Meanwhile, it doesnt take a thing out of the cupboard, so in fact if you want something while the computer is rearranging your cans, it will still give it to you… likewise, if you add stuff, it will sort that out, too.

And if you run it again after you’re done, it will rearrange them again. The thing is, it is quite thorough… and you have hundreds of thousands of them. If it doesn’t seem to make your computer any quicker then you have got too many cans. Then perhaps some of them are out of date, and you should throw them away.

I’m half expecting Waz and James to tear my analogy to pieces, but so what? It works for one drunk man… ;)

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Things Get In The Way

I wanted to go to bed, but I’m Alan Partridge was on. This has delayed my plans to retire. But this kind of thing has been going on a lot lately.

I was going to get a lot of work done today, but I really didn’t feel like it. Instead I played World Of Warcraft for about ten minutes and got bored, I watched a repeat of Top Gear, when Clarkson broke the ten minute barrier at the Nürburgring in a diesel Jaguar (again). I also watched a Ray Mears’ documentary on the Innu people of Canada. If reincarnation exists, please do not let me be a caribou in the Reservation there… I’m not sure I wish for my brains to be used to tan my own skin to be worn as moccasins. It was interesting though, but didn’t allow for me to get any work done. I also watched the first I’m A Celebrity… for my sins… Toby Anstis has got to win – the children’s television legend! He seems a nice bloke too. The fashion designer – I forget his name – seems a dead cert to go out first, though David Gest might give him a run for his money.

I might also have persuaded James to help out with a project of mine that I had been working on with Weiran. He seems to have liked the idea, but it would involve a lot of work, and he has enough work as it is at the moment. Our problem has always been time, but hopefully if James comes onboard, we will have sorted the “know-how” problem.

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To Prove A Point

Time for some evaluation. Having highlighted my mistakes in the last few days, I start to balance the points of the current situation. I should be thankful I didn’t start a career I might not have enjoyed. I should be grateful that I went to a University where I enjoy doing the work (on the whole). There are good points, but there are bad points, too.

I miss my friends. It’s not easy to see them, and they certainly don’t bend over backwards to maintain contact. I see them now and again – others not at all. They would talk about going out on an evening, but obviously I cannot join them, and that’s a sobering thought in itself!

But it’s not all been bad. If it wasn’t for this situation, I probably would still hardly have known people like Deano, James and Weiran. As it is I speak to them fairly frequently, and certainly more often than those that I holiday with… A few sly digs… sorry!

So I’m not unhappy at all. By the way, if anyone can tell me which “Bullet For My Valentine” CD I should get in order to get the best flavour of the band, I’d be grateful. Reasons to follow…

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