You know what's amazing?
Toothpaste.
I was running out so I went and bought more (this, to clarify, is not the amazing part), there were like billions of choices, but I managed a decision and got the replacement tube home and waited for the apparently empty tube to finally die.
That was weeks ago.
This tube is hanging on like a crazy thing.
I am getting to be quite amazed.
It must be like the tardis in there, only full of toothpaste.
Or (if nobody else's toothpaste tubes do this) perhaps I'm magic?
I could be like the guy that went round after Jesus fed 30,000 people fish sandwiches, who made sure they all had minty fresh breath with one tube of paste.
Hmm, I do have very cool sandels/official Haynes flip flops.
Could I get in trouble for claiming myself to be a/the dental messiah?
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Adventures in pickling
I'm back baby!
There was nothing, but now there's me! Hooray!
I've been working in a library this week, which would be dull, but because I'm doing something other than wandering around Cambridge or watching TV, it means I have been dreaming again (when I sleep) which is great!
Course the contents were gibberish - fireworks, Montmartre and more running than an episode of Doctor Who - but it's the fact that my brain still works that's good.
I then spent the day giggling that a book with the code F-O-X had been put next to a book with the code H-E-N. Oh, library japes, will you never end?
Speaking of doing nothing for a long time:
I made an experimental mixed bean salad a while back, literally mixed beans with a vinegrette dressing thing (all guessed based on the what-would-Jamie-Oliver-do principle) and it tasted alright so I ate most of it. Weeks later I find it at the back of the fridge and the ebans were still good! Also, as a by product of being in a vinegrette for many weeks they had becomed pickled! Hence the preserving. Wow. I was amazed - so I ate them going "wow, I can't believe they're pickled"
There was nothing, but now there's me! Hooray!
I've been working in a library this week, which would be dull, but because I'm doing something other than wandering around Cambridge or watching TV, it means I have been dreaming again (when I sleep) which is great!
Course the contents were gibberish - fireworks, Montmartre and more running than an episode of Doctor Who - but it's the fact that my brain still works that's good.
I then spent the day giggling that a book with the code F-O-X had been put next to a book with the code H-E-N. Oh, library japes, will you never end?
Speaking of doing nothing for a long time:
I made an experimental mixed bean salad a while back, literally mixed beans with a vinegrette dressing thing (all guessed based on the what-would-Jamie-Oliver-do principle) and it tasted alright so I ate most of it. Weeks later I find it at the back of the fridge and the ebans were still good! Also, as a by product of being in a vinegrette for many weeks they had becomed pickled! Hence the preserving. Wow. I was amazed - so I ate them going "wow, I can't believe they're pickled"
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Learning
Well, I now have more free time.
The people at work figured out that, despite being a fine writer, good looking, charming, etc, etc, I'm not terribly good at writing health and safety news. Also my massive lack of determination, motivation and the other one (perspiration?), meant I'm now looking for a new job.
Well, among other things of course.
I have been dog-sitting, which involves a great deal of sitting around in Newark. But I have been doing lots of learning, as I tend to in this sort of situation.
I have learnt what Dulche de Leche is. I found the recipe in a cookbook (literally stick a tin of condensed milk in boiling water for three hours) this recipe then goes on for half a page with warnings about the dangers of following the recipe. You see heating a sealed can wrong would make it explode. Opening a heated can would cause it to explode. It was the warnings that got me interested. Also I didn't know what it is so I gave it a shot. This required constant monitoring of the can for three hours as it clunks and rattles in a pot of boiling water - very exciting and probably not as dangerous as it felt. Turns out it's like caramel spread. Quite nice.
Also while sitting around in Newark I got a snazzy new hair cut (the old one had lost its pizazz) and at the same time visited the opticians, where I learnt another valuable lesson. Never watch a lot of Angel (or any Vampire programme) just before visiting an opticians. Having someone lean in that close was extremely uncomfortable as I was sure that the bloke was preparing to bite me. Also, I learnt that Leamington Spa is so much classier than Newark (Specsavers-wise at least) Leamington: Nice location, fancy machines, pleasant folks.
Newark: The thing is in Morrisions, the tech is very low, and the contact lens bloke turned my eyelids inside out on purpose! (What the hell?!)
Lots of TV watching besides Angel; Pride and Prejudice, The Office mostly. But did you know:
That the first of Disney's High School Musicals used 20 shades of lip gloss? Me neither! But more amazing is that the second one used twice as many! 40! Gee-whizz, that sure is a lot. I was so amazed, that I began seriously looking for something better to do with my life.
Suggestions welcome.
The people at work figured out that, despite being a fine writer, good looking, charming, etc, etc, I'm not terribly good at writing health and safety news. Also my massive lack of determination, motivation and the other one (perspiration?), meant I'm now looking for a new job.
Well, among other things of course.
I have been dog-sitting, which involves a great deal of sitting around in Newark. But I have been doing lots of learning, as I tend to in this sort of situation.
I have learnt what Dulche de Leche is. I found the recipe in a cookbook (literally stick a tin of condensed milk in boiling water for three hours) this recipe then goes on for half a page with warnings about the dangers of following the recipe. You see heating a sealed can wrong would make it explode. Opening a heated can would cause it to explode. It was the warnings that got me interested. Also I didn't know what it is so I gave it a shot. This required constant monitoring of the can for three hours as it clunks and rattles in a pot of boiling water - very exciting and probably not as dangerous as it felt. Turns out it's like caramel spread. Quite nice.
Also while sitting around in Newark I got a snazzy new hair cut (the old one had lost its pizazz) and at the same time visited the opticians, where I learnt another valuable lesson. Never watch a lot of Angel (or any Vampire programme) just before visiting an opticians. Having someone lean in that close was extremely uncomfortable as I was sure that the bloke was preparing to bite me. Also, I learnt that Leamington Spa is so much classier than Newark (Specsavers-wise at least) Leamington: Nice location, fancy machines, pleasant folks.
Newark: The thing is in Morrisions, the tech is very low, and the contact lens bloke turned my eyelids inside out on purpose! (What the hell?!)
Lots of TV watching besides Angel; Pride and Prejudice, The Office mostly. But did you know:
That the first of Disney's High School Musicals used 20 shades of lip gloss? Me neither! But more amazing is that the second one used twice as many! 40! Gee-whizz, that sure is a lot. I was so amazed, that I began seriously looking for something better to do with my life.
Suggestions welcome.
Monday, June 09, 2008
Easy Bake Fridge
Well, I've got the latest in the long line of unpleasent things that my basement flat does.
I could not figure out why all of my food was going off so fast when I was keeping it refridgerated and has absolutely no idea why my beef was going very strange colours (the colour of jerky is ont what you expect after two days in the fridge)
Anyway, there's this toy in the States, possibly here (i'm not really up with girls toys) it's called and easy bake oven and you've probably heard of it. It cooks cupcakes with a lightbulb in a box and perhaps you can see where this is going?
The light in my fridge does not go off when you close the door. Normally it vanishes by magic, but not down here. No magic in that kitchen. The light stays on. HEATING the top corner of my fridge. MY FOOD HAS BEEN COOKING IN THE FRIDGE! THE FRIDGE IS A F**KING EASY BAKE OVEN!!!
This is wrong, the only thing you should be able to cook in a fridge is fridge cake and that's just using freezing powers.
There's actually a bowl of mine hat has been up against the icy bakc of the fridge and the light, so that one half is frozen and the other is hot.
AAAAAAHHHHHHHKKKHHHHAAAAANNNN!!!!!!
Cooking in the fridge just boggles my monkey.
I could not figure out why all of my food was going off so fast when I was keeping it refridgerated and has absolutely no idea why my beef was going very strange colours (the colour of jerky is ont what you expect after two days in the fridge)
Anyway, there's this toy in the States, possibly here (i'm not really up with girls toys) it's called and easy bake oven and you've probably heard of it. It cooks cupcakes with a lightbulb in a box and perhaps you can see where this is going?
The light in my fridge does not go off when you close the door. Normally it vanishes by magic, but not down here. No magic in that kitchen. The light stays on. HEATING the top corner of my fridge. MY FOOD HAS BEEN COOKING IN THE FRIDGE! THE FRIDGE IS A F**KING EASY BAKE OVEN!!!
This is wrong, the only thing you should be able to cook in a fridge is fridge cake and that's just using freezing powers.
There's actually a bowl of mine hat has been up against the icy bakc of the fridge and the light, so that one half is frozen and the other is hot.
AAAAAAHHHHHHHKKKHHHHAAAAANNNN!!!!!!
Cooking in the fridge just boggles my monkey.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
The time I went to Strawberry Fair
What's the hottest you've ever felt? (temperature-wise obviously)
It was sunny today and I was doing my laundry and sitting by the driers reading was pretty boiling, but I'm sure that I've felt hotter. It's kind of odd that you can remember images and smells and tastes and things from those obvious sences, but that you get nothing from temperature or the other sneaky sences.
My bathroom's started to smell like a vets. It's kind of nice because it can remind me of my dogs, but it's a rather odd clinical smell that doesn't make a great deal of sense first thing in the morning.
Of course my bathroom here is just one oddity to the next. The latest occurance is a new found sence of danger and urgency in the shower. I reckon this is caused by the sunny weather, people are shedding all their hair for the summer and so the drainage hole is never clear. As well as being gross, this can be quite exciting as showering goes one of two ways:
1) The usual way, where the clog sits there not letting water out. This gives you only a few minutes before the bottom of the shower fills with water and overflows everywhere! This is just on the edge of the level of intensity that I can handle first thing in the morning.
2) The new way, with enough foam surrounding the clog, it can actually float off the hole and start travelling round the bowl in the currents. First thing in the morning, with no glasses on and water in my eyes, a fuzzy disc in a white cloud circling my feet is enough to make a memorable showering experience.
But I was talking about the heat, and the sun. It's kind of ironic that today it's boiling and sunny, when yesterday it was muggy and dark. You see yesterday was the Strawberry Fair. The exact famousness of the fair isn't really something I can judge - I'd never heard of it before, but everyone at work has been talking about whether or not they're going so I guess it's a big deal to some. From what I can tell it's a hippy fair. Lots of people setting up tents in a cow field and... being hippies.
So I poodle down in the cloudy afternoon, I had no idea where it was - having never been before - but finding huge crowds of people doing a weird kind of zombie walk over there, I blended in and headed over.
There's a big blueish smoke haze in the distance marking our arrival. So I stagger round among the tents selling jewellery, and tie dye shirts and all kinds of food, listen to some bands (one of which was good) and I spend £5!!!!! on a glass of cider (£5!!!! for Old-sodding-Rosie!!!! £5!!!! Jeez!! for an anti-captitalism bunch, they sure chrage rediculous amounts for alcohol) Getting bored and feeling ill from the fumes I stagger into Cambridge city centre from an angle I've never seen before. Eventually finding somewhere I recognise I shuffle around in Borders until I get my head clear. Then I went DVD shopping, which, rather than being under the influence of anything perticular, actually proves that I'm back to normal.
It was just a bit strange that yesterday was so gloomy and everyone was sitting in a field pretending to enjoy the weather, while today it actually is sunny and I only have a park to enjoy it in, instead of a field full of hippies. Who smell bad.
Still ice lollies and Harry Potter, in the sun, watching the girls go by. Great.
It was sunny today and I was doing my laundry and sitting by the driers reading was pretty boiling, but I'm sure that I've felt hotter. It's kind of odd that you can remember images and smells and tastes and things from those obvious sences, but that you get nothing from temperature or the other sneaky sences.
My bathroom's started to smell like a vets. It's kind of nice because it can remind me of my dogs, but it's a rather odd clinical smell that doesn't make a great deal of sense first thing in the morning.
Of course my bathroom here is just one oddity to the next. The latest occurance is a new found sence of danger and urgency in the shower. I reckon this is caused by the sunny weather, people are shedding all their hair for the summer and so the drainage hole is never clear. As well as being gross, this can be quite exciting as showering goes one of two ways:
1) The usual way, where the clog sits there not letting water out. This gives you only a few minutes before the bottom of the shower fills with water and overflows everywhere! This is just on the edge of the level of intensity that I can handle first thing in the morning.
2) The new way, with enough foam surrounding the clog, it can actually float off the hole and start travelling round the bowl in the currents. First thing in the morning, with no glasses on and water in my eyes, a fuzzy disc in a white cloud circling my feet is enough to make a memorable showering experience.
But I was talking about the heat, and the sun. It's kind of ironic that today it's boiling and sunny, when yesterday it was muggy and dark. You see yesterday was the Strawberry Fair. The exact famousness of the fair isn't really something I can judge - I'd never heard of it before, but everyone at work has been talking about whether or not they're going so I guess it's a big deal to some. From what I can tell it's a hippy fair. Lots of people setting up tents in a cow field and... being hippies.
So I poodle down in the cloudy afternoon, I had no idea where it was - having never been before - but finding huge crowds of people doing a weird kind of zombie walk over there, I blended in and headed over.
There's a big blueish smoke haze in the distance marking our arrival. So I stagger round among the tents selling jewellery, and tie dye shirts and all kinds of food, listen to some bands (one of which was good) and I spend £5!!!!! on a glass of cider (£5!!!! for Old-sodding-Rosie!!!! £5!!!! Jeez!! for an anti-captitalism bunch, they sure chrage rediculous amounts for alcohol) Getting bored and feeling ill from the fumes I stagger into Cambridge city centre from an angle I've never seen before. Eventually finding somewhere I recognise I shuffle around in Borders until I get my head clear. Then I went DVD shopping, which, rather than being under the influence of anything perticular, actually proves that I'm back to normal.
It was just a bit strange that yesterday was so gloomy and everyone was sitting in a field pretending to enjoy the weather, while today it actually is sunny and I only have a park to enjoy it in, instead of a field full of hippies. Who smell bad.
Still ice lollies and Harry Potter, in the sun, watching the girls go by. Great.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Define Action?
I was going to post something about my not being jobless and the common unprobability of my continued survival.
Also (maybe unfortunatly), the almost certaintude of my continuing at this job (barring any sudden HUGE drop in skill) for quite sometime as the other news and feature writer is leaving and I would imagine that keeping me around rather than making themsleves 100% writer free is the company's prefered course of action.
Anyway, was going to say all that but:
I set fire to a potato. With a microwave. It was potato coloured on the outside, and toasted black at the heart. Also there was a very great deal of smoke. Action was lept to. More or less.
It's emergencies like this where you learn what kind of man you are. So while everyone else fled the kitchen as the air turned grey and unbreatheable I carried the smoking potato-rock to the sink and drowned the bastard. Then turned on the extractor fan. Then put my beans in the microwave. As the fire alarm went off and others left to shut up the siren, I got some bread and fired up the toaster - if baked potato is outthe window (or technically underwater) I guess beans on toast is the only remaining dinner option.
Who am I?
I'm Doug (not Spiderman)
Also (maybe unfortunatly), the almost certaintude of my continuing at this job (barring any sudden HUGE drop in skill) for quite sometime as the other news and feature writer is leaving and I would imagine that keeping me around rather than making themsleves 100% writer free is the company's prefered course of action.
Anyway, was going to say all that but:
I set fire to a potato. With a microwave. It was potato coloured on the outside, and toasted black at the heart. Also there was a very great deal of smoke. Action was lept to. More or less.
It's emergencies like this where you learn what kind of man you are. So while everyone else fled the kitchen as the air turned grey and unbreatheable I carried the smoking potato-rock to the sink and drowned the bastard. Then turned on the extractor fan. Then put my beans in the microwave. As the fire alarm went off and others left to shut up the siren, I got some bread and fired up the toaster - if baked potato is outthe window (or technically underwater) I guess beans on toast is the only remaining dinner option.
Who am I?
I'm Doug (not Spiderman)
Monday, May 26, 2008
Work...
How do you know things about what you do?
How do you know if it's right for you or wrong for you?
I guess it's guess you just have to know one way or the other.
But even then you don't have to act on that
One of the (many) things I like to see myself as is Wile E. Coyote, not because of cunning or relentlessness or the many other fine qualities; I'm the foot stuck in a loop of rope dragged behind the giant rocket boucing along the ground before I hit a cliff face, expode and then get smashed by a falling rock Coyote.
It always seem like I'm about to be splatted/exploded/crushed, but, not yet.
I guess the better side of me keeps us going regardless.
Hooray (for now)
How do you know if it's right for you or wrong for you?
I guess it's guess you just have to know one way or the other.
But even then you don't have to act on that
One of the (many) things I like to see myself as is Wile E. Coyote, not because of cunning or relentlessness or the many other fine qualities; I'm the foot stuck in a loop of rope dragged behind the giant rocket boucing along the ground before I hit a cliff face, expode and then get smashed by a falling rock Coyote.
It always seem like I'm about to be splatted/exploded/crushed, but, not yet.
I guess the better side of me keeps us going regardless.
Hooray (for now)
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Q&A
You know what I haven't done in a long time?
Odds are that every answer you came up with is correct.
I have done very little besides work and sleep for a good long while now, and it looks like that's going to continue or a while longer.
But not to despair!
It may be the darkest hour or many hours before the darkest hour, but Captain Doug does not despair.
It's going to take some growth before I'm a decent News and Features Writer, but all I need is the appropriate montage music and this will pan out, I'm sure. Seems like time to put my ipod on random and wait for destiny.
But it's not all waiting here in Cambridge... oh no!
I'm out and about doing my best to meet interesting people and foxy ladies. Foxy and interesting - a deadly combination.
Course, being utterly wingman-less at the moment and having no idea where to start looking I'm mostly reading comics on Parkers Piece and um... waiting. Damn. So not quite proactive on reflection.
Ah, but you see there is no situation so bad that Captain Doug cannot make seem far better by refering to himself in the third person. Hooray!
Odds are that every answer you came up with is correct.
I have done very little besides work and sleep for a good long while now, and it looks like that's going to continue or a while longer.
But not to despair!
It may be the darkest hour or many hours before the darkest hour, but Captain Doug does not despair.
It's going to take some growth before I'm a decent News and Features Writer, but all I need is the appropriate montage music and this will pan out, I'm sure. Seems like time to put my ipod on random and wait for destiny.
But it's not all waiting here in Cambridge... oh no!
I'm out and about doing my best to meet interesting people and foxy ladies. Foxy and interesting - a deadly combination.
Course, being utterly wingman-less at the moment and having no idea where to start looking I'm mostly reading comics on Parkers Piece and um... waiting. Damn. So not quite proactive on reflection.
Ah, but you see there is no situation so bad that Captain Doug cannot make seem far better by refering to himself in the third person. Hooray!
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Lunch!
Just when I thought I was out, they pulled me back in.
I don't have the internets at home yet so here I am, face full of philly and roast veg sammage, frantically typing during my lunch break.
I have been called into action by Hayley and, never one to not do what a lady tells me to do, to action I shall spring.
She wants to transmit a meme (a cultural element passed on by imitation, which is technobabble for chain mail) giving the fifth to eighth sentances of page 123 of the nearer book to you, so here it is
“The way in which an employer fulfils its duties to employees, visitors and third parties is set out in more detail in subordinate legislation. The management of Health and Safety at Work Regulations 1999 set out in broad terms how health and safety should be managed. They provide detailed guidance, and one of the most important issues they address is the requirement to carry out risk assessments.”
Oh yes, this is blatantly turning out exactly how she planned it.
Worst of all is my appallingly short list of blog contacts. As such I will link to someone new – Chris, through the site he uses very occasionally and also bounce this back to Hayley so she can keep it going. I’m sure there’s a very science term for this, but I don’t know it.
More words to follow when I have webbed my chamber (got internet access in my room).
I don't have the internets at home yet so here I am, face full of philly and roast veg sammage, frantically typing during my lunch break.
I have been called into action by Hayley and, never one to not do what a lady tells me to do, to action I shall spring.
She wants to transmit a meme (a cultural element passed on by imitation, which is technobabble for chain mail) giving the fifth to eighth sentances of page 123 of the nearer book to you, so here it is
“The way in which an employer fulfils its duties to employees, visitors and third parties is set out in more detail in subordinate legislation. The management of Health and Safety at Work Regulations 1999 set out in broad terms how health and safety should be managed. They provide detailed guidance, and one of the most important issues they address is the requirement to carry out risk assessments.”
Oh yes, this is blatantly turning out exactly how she planned it.
Worst of all is my appallingly short list of blog contacts. As such I will link to someone new – Chris, through the site he uses very occasionally and also bounce this back to Hayley so she can keep it going. I’m sure there’s a very science term for this, but I don’t know it.
More words to follow when I have webbed my chamber (got internet access in my room).
Monday, March 31, 2008
J-Day
Well, this is the end of my not being at work.
As of tomorrow I start working and that's a very exciting thing.
I will have a place in Cambridge, but it's going to be ready next weekend so there's going to be a week of relying on the kindness of others before that. My place is small, it's cheap and I'll go into more detail when I'm there.
So I'm currently being very excited about work - lots of packing and outfit planning and travel planning and so on which is kinda fun.
As far as things that have happened goes; I have a tale of coldness and misery on a hillside. But ultimately there are lessons learnt and character growth.
I went hiking!
When someone says to me, "Doug, do you fancy going trekking?" after I ask them if they actually mean watching a lot of Star Trek, I envision a sort of leisurely extended pub crawl with camping in the middle and pleasant views in between pubs.
When someone asks me, "Do you fancy going trekking?" what they actually mean is serious hiking, with little to no pubbage and a lot of pain, cold winds and hail.
Unfortunately this is a difference I found out once we'd arrived and were too far up the side of a hill to get back to a pub.
The drama that ensued took place over Good Friday, with the plan being that it continue until Easter Sunday. These days we snowy. They were cold. They were some of the nastiest days weatherwise this year and we took full advantage of that by getting as high up as we could. Oh how dumb are we?
The first hour was nice, a new view and sunny weather lulled us into thinking that perhaps all the panicky weather folks were wrong. But then we actually reached the top. The hail and wind found us. We started to freeze. Noses started to run, leading to hours of sniffing, leading to sinus aches of a serious cold. That wasn't all! The differences in expectation were clear in the equipment and so after the first hours I discovered my old boots were now half a size to small for my feet and as such were doing their darnedest to peel off my toenails. This would of been a mild irritation on a three day pub to pub walk, but on a cross country hike it was hours of torture. Similarly, the bag I brought would have served me well walking betwixt pubs and removing it to drink and sit, but carrying it for hours over varying terrains was not something either of us were designed for.
We did make it to a pub, dragging ourselves off the hills long after sunset, but the sniffing was too painful for me to drink so this did very little to lift my spirits apart from being warm (which was wonderful, but not enough to balance out the suffering.)
Day Two should of consisted of a greater distance. This plan was very quickly rejected. Plan B took us quickly over the hills (now covered in snow). This plan was rejected. Finally plans that involved motorized vehicles began appearing, to more enthusiasm.
The best bit was when we got back in the car. This was warm and also involved sitting which was lovely. This was also before all the aches of overused muscles kicked in.
After that was very painful but I wouldn't want to bore you with moaning...
Lesson learnt:
I am not an outdoors, fit, energetic type of man. What a wonderful thing to learn about yourself. But at least I could comfort myself with chocolate.
As of tomorrow I start working and that's a very exciting thing.
I will have a place in Cambridge, but it's going to be ready next weekend so there's going to be a week of relying on the kindness of others before that. My place is small, it's cheap and I'll go into more detail when I'm there.
So I'm currently being very excited about work - lots of packing and outfit planning and travel planning and so on which is kinda fun.
As far as things that have happened goes; I have a tale of coldness and misery on a hillside. But ultimately there are lessons learnt and character growth.
I went hiking!
When someone says to me, "Doug, do you fancy going trekking?" after I ask them if they actually mean watching a lot of Star Trek, I envision a sort of leisurely extended pub crawl with camping in the middle and pleasant views in between pubs.
When someone asks me, "Do you fancy going trekking?" what they actually mean is serious hiking, with little to no pubbage and a lot of pain, cold winds and hail.
Unfortunately this is a difference I found out once we'd arrived and were too far up the side of a hill to get back to a pub.
The drama that ensued took place over Good Friday, with the plan being that it continue until Easter Sunday. These days we snowy. They were cold. They were some of the nastiest days weatherwise this year and we took full advantage of that by getting as high up as we could. Oh how dumb are we?
The first hour was nice, a new view and sunny weather lulled us into thinking that perhaps all the panicky weather folks were wrong. But then we actually reached the top. The hail and wind found us. We started to freeze. Noses started to run, leading to hours of sniffing, leading to sinus aches of a serious cold. That wasn't all! The differences in expectation were clear in the equipment and so after the first hours I discovered my old boots were now half a size to small for my feet and as such were doing their darnedest to peel off my toenails. This would of been a mild irritation on a three day pub to pub walk, but on a cross country hike it was hours of torture. Similarly, the bag I brought would have served me well walking betwixt pubs and removing it to drink and sit, but carrying it for hours over varying terrains was not something either of us were designed for.
We did make it to a pub, dragging ourselves off the hills long after sunset, but the sniffing was too painful for me to drink so this did very little to lift my spirits apart from being warm (which was wonderful, but not enough to balance out the suffering.)
Day Two should of consisted of a greater distance. This plan was very quickly rejected. Plan B took us quickly over the hills (now covered in snow). This plan was rejected. Finally plans that involved motorized vehicles began appearing, to more enthusiasm.
The best bit was when we got back in the car. This was warm and also involved sitting which was lovely. This was also before all the aches of overused muscles kicked in.
After that was very painful but I wouldn't want to bore you with moaning...
Lesson learnt:
I am not an outdoors, fit, energetic type of man. What a wonderful thing to learn about yourself. But at least I could comfort myself with chocolate.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Hooray for Doug
Do you have a victory song?
You know, when the hero finally succeeds, there's a song that blasts out and everything's ok?
I hadn't really thought about it, so it came as bit of a surpirse when I got some good news and this blasted out inside my head:
I guess if you know my tendencies towards the bizzare that odd choice isn't too big a surprise, but I thought I'd share it and see what you thought.
So what is this victory that someone who's been complaining about being unemployed with nothing to do for months, achieve?
Hmm...
That's right!
I am un-unemployed!
Or to say it without hurting the English language, I am employed!
I'm going to work for a law magazine in Cambridge!
Huzzah!
Law?
Law!
It's not science, (the subject of subjects that my communication skills have been groomed for,) but the position is writing news and features and tons of other different formats and there's a bunch of other tasks as well. All the variety will certainly keep me occupied and everyone seems nice there, so yay! Now all I have to do is get myself down to Cambridge. That's some leaving the house excitement to look forward to.
Excitement! Variety! The Law! Shocking Twists! Cambridge! (Hopefully with the shocking twists taking the pleasent forms, unless law is the shocking twist and then that's already accounted for?)
All this to come in the next few blogs, in the finally continuing adventures of me, Doug.
You know, when the hero finally succeeds, there's a song that blasts out and everything's ok?
I hadn't really thought about it, so it came as bit of a surpirse when I got some good news and this blasted out inside my head:
I guess if you know my tendencies towards the bizzare that odd choice isn't too big a surprise, but I thought I'd share it and see what you thought.
So what is this victory that someone who's been complaining about being unemployed with nothing to do for months, achieve?
Hmm...
That's right!
I am un-unemployed!
Or to say it without hurting the English language, I am employed!
I'm going to work for a law magazine in Cambridge!
Huzzah!
Law?
Law!
It's not science, (the subject of subjects that my communication skills have been groomed for,) but the position is writing news and features and tons of other different formats and there's a bunch of other tasks as well. All the variety will certainly keep me occupied and everyone seems nice there, so yay! Now all I have to do is get myself down to Cambridge. That's some leaving the house excitement to look forward to.
Excitement! Variety! The Law! Shocking Twists! Cambridge! (Hopefully with the shocking twists taking the pleasent forms, unless law is the shocking twist and then that's already accounted for?)
All this to come in the next few blogs, in the finally continuing adventures of me, Doug.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Weird Dreams 2
Yay! I've got an interview! It's really nice to have something to be heading towards, rather than the aimless existing that I've been doing lately.
So, yay me and yay them, for they are about to experience a interview that will pierce the heavens.
But the really important reason for this is my remebering the dream that came after my Torchwood dream. So without further adu, I present;
The "Traveling in a country where they speak Spainish" dream.
This lacks the pure lunacy of Torchwood, but ends well.
I start remembering while in a building; one of the ones that has appeared a few times in my dreams but not reality, I'm hiding out/probably resting for the night in the basement of this place, plastered uneven walls. It's dark, because it's night and we're underground.
It belongs to Salma Hayek and her younger sibling, (as much as you'd expect me to remember if the child was a boy or a girl, I'm afraid I don't, just that they were young), (also I'm only 90% sure it was Salma Hayek, as her voice was the thing I have the strongest memories of.) I chat with the kid for a while, in the way that impressive traveller types do, amusing them with stories and the like, before the kid goes to bed.
So I rest for the night in the basement, (sleeping within a dream while you're asleep? now thats some heavy duty sleeping) but in the morning some kind of terrible something happens in the B&Q type hardware store that they run in the ground level part of the building.
It's wrecked and Salma etc, are in really big trouble, (some kind of opressive land Baron - I think - who will be extrememly displeased at the state of affairs and also my presence.)
It's going to be ok though, because I'm sure, not only that we can get it fixed up before opening time, but also that it won't feel like hours of hard work because the fixing stuff up montage music, (that you get in the movies,) is about to kick in and time will whizz past when that happens.
Unfortunatly, before I can find out what montage music my unconcious feels is approprate for such a situation, I wake up.
Damn it, coz I just know that taking part in a musical montage would be so much fun. (I'm serious here, because it would actually be fantasic.)
As well as strange dreams and an upcoming interview, I've been cooking. Biscuits/Cookies/Smores depending on your defintion, but they are resting over night before getting properly baked. I mention this because they contain toffee, and the toffee required some Captain Doug cooking to be added.
I need small toffee chucks.
I have large toffee chucks.
The solutions available here are all pretty fun, but I statred with freezing the toffee. Once hard I dropped the bag out of an upstairs window, smashing it on the patio below. And then one more time to be sure.
Why can't all cooking work like that?
So, yay me and yay them, for they are about to experience a interview that will pierce the heavens.
But the really important reason for this is my remebering the dream that came after my Torchwood dream. So without further adu, I present;
The "Traveling in a country where they speak Spainish" dream.
This lacks the pure lunacy of Torchwood, but ends well.
I start remembering while in a building; one of the ones that has appeared a few times in my dreams but not reality, I'm hiding out/probably resting for the night in the basement of this place, plastered uneven walls. It's dark, because it's night and we're underground.
It belongs to Salma Hayek and her younger sibling, (as much as you'd expect me to remember if the child was a boy or a girl, I'm afraid I don't, just that they were young), (also I'm only 90% sure it was Salma Hayek, as her voice was the thing I have the strongest memories of.) I chat with the kid for a while, in the way that impressive traveller types do, amusing them with stories and the like, before the kid goes to bed.
So I rest for the night in the basement, (sleeping within a dream while you're asleep? now thats some heavy duty sleeping) but in the morning some kind of terrible something happens in the B&Q type hardware store that they run in the ground level part of the building.
It's wrecked and Salma etc, are in really big trouble, (some kind of opressive land Baron - I think - who will be extrememly displeased at the state of affairs and also my presence.)
It's going to be ok though, because I'm sure, not only that we can get it fixed up before opening time, but also that it won't feel like hours of hard work because the fixing stuff up montage music, (that you get in the movies,) is about to kick in and time will whizz past when that happens.
Unfortunatly, before I can find out what montage music my unconcious feels is approprate for such a situation, I wake up.
Damn it, coz I just know that taking part in a musical montage would be so much fun. (I'm serious here, because it would actually be fantasic.)
As well as strange dreams and an upcoming interview, I've been cooking. Biscuits/Cookies/Smores depending on your defintion, but they are resting over night before getting properly baked. I mention this because they contain toffee, and the toffee required some Captain Doug cooking to be added.
I need small toffee chucks.
I have large toffee chucks.
The solutions available here are all pretty fun, but I statred with freezing the toffee. Once hard I dropped the bag out of an upstairs window, smashing it on the patio below. And then one more time to be sure.
Why can't all cooking work like that?
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Weird Dreams
Still no job.
Starting to try to look at temping, but no work from there yet either.
But that's just me keeping you up to date on the hunt rather than whining (coz I'm no whiner).
But with no work and very few tasks or quests to do what can I possibly write about?
Well, just because my conscious mind is doing bugger all, doesn't mean my unconscious isn't busy. Busy with some really weird dreams. So busy in fact that I'm almost concerned. Those of you schooled in psychology, prepare for your skills to be tested. Everyone else strap in; it's going to get weird.
My Torchwood dream.
Yes, that's right. Once again, proof that I watch too much TV (no adverts or credits in this one though, so that's a positive step).
So me and a bunch of other people are driving round what is presumably Cardiff, presumably hunting for aliens. I say presumably, because none of this was made explicit in the dream itself, but we was clearly Torchwood, because we were dressed like them, had the car and also visited a warehouse. (Thankfully no gay innuendo, so maybe it was Torchwood lite?) Anyway, we kick the doors down and storm into this warehouse only to find it alien-less, but full of "simulation devices" (I'm quoting the Ianto alike who was on the team here
Simulation devices? Weirder than they sound, trust me.
So being me, I climb onto one.
"What's this for then?", I say, or something to that effect.
"Oooh," says the Ianto alike, "That's the digger simulator."
That's right, a digger.
It's a seat with the digger arm gubbins in front of it and the controls of the other side of the arm, so I'm hugging the arm to drive this thing (which is on a raised platform and just spins round) when other members of the team sit in the seat around the platform I'm on. Oh and all their seats have paintball guns in front of them.
So I'm hugging a digger arm, spinning round and getting shot in the back.
This is when I wake up, feeling thoroughly confused about what was going on.
As for the job I feel I would be perfect for now (assuming that crazy Torchwood don't need me):
Dear Mr Doo,
I wish to express my interest in the position with your team.
I have a very analytical mind, and am excellent at problem solving, which led me to my undergraduate degree in maths and physics. I really enjoy communicating those solutions, which is why I recently completed a masters degree in Science Communication. The degree involved wearing many different hats; solving crimes within science, unmasking those that would otherwise get away with poor communication and working for treats not unlike your snacks. I feel this experience makes me a strong candidate for this position.
In addition, I have great skills at running away, wearing costumes and enjoy working with animals. I have a full driving licence and would be happy to drive the Mystery Machine in needed.
Also, it may be of interest that I have Shaggy hair and scruffy facial hair.
Yours, etc...
Starting to try to look at temping, but no work from there yet either.
But that's just me keeping you up to date on the hunt rather than whining (coz I'm no whiner).
But with no work and very few tasks or quests to do what can I possibly write about?
Well, just because my conscious mind is doing bugger all, doesn't mean my unconscious isn't busy. Busy with some really weird dreams. So busy in fact that I'm almost concerned. Those of you schooled in psychology, prepare for your skills to be tested. Everyone else strap in; it's going to get weird.
My Torchwood dream.
Yes, that's right. Once again, proof that I watch too much TV (no adverts or credits in this one though, so that's a positive step).
So me and a bunch of other people are driving round what is presumably Cardiff, presumably hunting for aliens. I say presumably, because none of this was made explicit in the dream itself, but we was clearly Torchwood, because we were dressed like them, had the car and also visited a warehouse. (Thankfully no gay innuendo, so maybe it was Torchwood lite?) Anyway, we kick the doors down and storm into this warehouse only to find it alien-less, but full of "simulation devices" (I'm quoting the Ianto alike who was on the team here
Simulation devices? Weirder than they sound, trust me.
So being me, I climb onto one.
"What's this for then?", I say, or something to that effect.
"Oooh," says the Ianto alike, "That's the digger simulator."
That's right, a digger.
It's a seat with the digger arm gubbins in front of it and the controls of the other side of the arm, so I'm hugging the arm to drive this thing (which is on a raised platform and just spins round) when other members of the team sit in the seat around the platform I'm on. Oh and all their seats have paintball guns in front of them.
So I'm hugging a digger arm, spinning round and getting shot in the back.
This is when I wake up, feeling thoroughly confused about what was going on.
As for the job I feel I would be perfect for now (assuming that crazy Torchwood don't need me):
Dear Mr Doo,
I wish to express my interest in the position with your team.
I have a very analytical mind, and am excellent at problem solving, which led me to my undergraduate degree in maths and physics. I really enjoy communicating those solutions, which is why I recently completed a masters degree in Science Communication. The degree involved wearing many different hats; solving crimes within science, unmasking those that would otherwise get away with poor communication and working for treats not unlike your snacks. I feel this experience makes me a strong candidate for this position.
In addition, I have great skills at running away, wearing costumes and enjoy working with animals. I have a full driving licence and would be happy to drive the Mystery Machine in needed.
Also, it may be of interest that I have Shaggy hair and scruffy facial hair.
Yours, etc...
Monday, February 18, 2008
Unemployment sucks
I'm getting pretty tired of not having a job. Actually I'm tired of many many things, but in general these are traced back in a long chain to me needing a job. There's been plenty of applications but almost as many regections and a huge dollop of sod all.
Who wants to get turned down for jobs like, *rifles through files (unsucessfully)* something writer and whatchamacallit assistant. If I'm getting turned down I'm gonna get turned down for something I really, really want. So on the off chance that the relevent authorities read these pages:
Dear Mr Spielberg,
I am writing to express my interest in a position at your theme park that I saw advertised in Coventry. I am hoping to work in the area of science journalism and working with a company like yours would be a wonderful opportunity.
I have a great interest in science and technology and recently completed a masters degree in Science Communication. Having spent a year in the nexus between production and delevery of science, I am keen to continue with you. The degree did involve a great deal of dressing up and making noise and I feel this makes me a strong candidate for this position.
While studying in Bristol, I visited the zoo on a number of occasions and encountered many birds and reptiles, which I feel would count towards the necessary research for a position such as this. I also spent a lot of time wearing green and roaring, which I'm sure will be of benefit.
I think I would make an excellent dinosaur in Jurassic Park and look forward to your responce.
Yours sincerely,
"Tyrannosaurus" Doug Kitson
Who wants to get turned down for jobs like, *rifles through files (unsucessfully)* something writer and whatchamacallit assistant. If I'm getting turned down I'm gonna get turned down for something I really, really want. So on the off chance that the relevent authorities read these pages:
Dear Mr Spielberg,
I am writing to express my interest in a position at your theme park that I saw advertised in Coventry. I am hoping to work in the area of science journalism and working with a company like yours would be a wonderful opportunity.
I have a great interest in science and technology and recently completed a masters degree in Science Communication. Having spent a year in the nexus between production and delevery of science, I am keen to continue with you. The degree did involve a great deal of dressing up and making noise and I feel this makes me a strong candidate for this position.
While studying in Bristol, I visited the zoo on a number of occasions and encountered many birds and reptiles, which I feel would count towards the necessary research for a position such as this. I also spent a lot of time wearing green and roaring, which I'm sure will be of benefit.
I think I would make an excellent dinosaur in Jurassic Park and look forward to your responce.
Yours sincerely,
"Tyrannosaurus" Doug Kitson
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
2008, great...
So, i've been gone a while.
Busy doing exciting things so numberous this post will be weighty and interesting?
No, not really.
Looking for a job mostly and sitting around the house waiting for that to pan out.
It's fun if you enjoy that sort of thing.
Though I may be getting closer to a job (got an interview) so I'm full of beans again and ready to write and show anyone who asks just how enthusiastic I am, about anything.
Also, in job related news, I'll be getting a haircut.
Good stuff no?
Glad you started reading? Absolutely.
In the rest of the world, there's a bunch of new posters for 10,000BC online. 10,000BC for those of you that don't know is (as well as being a year) a movie by the guy who did Independence Day and The Day after Tomorrow and I'm looking forward to it very much.
The cavemans face is what Empire Online called "Pumbas "IT'S GONNA EAT ME!" face" which made me laugh, also I like the way he says it so it made me chuckle more.
Also, Pumba reminded me of a girl I used to know; I don't get why girls object so much to being called Pumba, clearly I have a lot of learning to do before i start giving girls nicknames. Still, the chuckling continues.
Well, I hope you're all well, and that your December-Januarys have been lovelyful so far.
Busy doing exciting things so numberous this post will be weighty and interesting?
No, not really.
Looking for a job mostly and sitting around the house waiting for that to pan out.
It's fun if you enjoy that sort of thing.
Though I may be getting closer to a job (got an interview) so I'm full of beans again and ready to write and show anyone who asks just how enthusiastic I am, about anything.
Also, in job related news, I'll be getting a haircut.
Good stuff no?
Glad you started reading? Absolutely.
In the rest of the world, there's a bunch of new posters for 10,000BC online. 10,000BC for those of you that don't know is (as well as being a year) a movie by the guy who did Independence Day and The Day after Tomorrow and I'm looking forward to it very much.
The cavemans face is what Empire Online called "Pumbas "IT'S GONNA EAT ME!" face" which made me laugh, also I like the way he says it so it made me chuckle more.
Also, Pumba reminded me of a girl I used to know; I don't get why girls object so much to being called Pumba, clearly I have a lot of learning to do before i start giving girls nicknames. Still, the chuckling continues.
Well, I hope you're all well, and that your December-Januarys have been lovelyful so far.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
A (mad) man of my word
So my dissertation is gone.
But still I can't sleep.
No idea why.
However, I using all this extra awake time to do something useful - well one burst of extra awake time, the rest is for reading Harry Potter.
I was lying awake staring at the ceiling, then the wall, then the other wall - not really one for lying still when i can't sleep - and i start coming up with limericks to amuse my still active brain.
I suggested a while ago that my dissertation's acknowledgements may take limerick form (in the end they didn't because i was too busy writing sensible words to be lyrical) but i managed to find some words that rhymed well, so some people got a limerick. (The actual acknowledgements thank people properly, this is just limeicky nonsense)
The first three are from late night, November 27th, the other three i just put together now - under the influence of a head injury that i sustained this afternoon.
The rhyme on the last ones a little tricky, so best of luck reading them.
Acknowledgements
Acknowledgements of my dissertation
- a source of continued frustration,
With these peoples persistence,
Proof reads and assistance,
It’s finally reached publication.
There was an old fellow called Jim,
Who needed to learn how to swim,
Coz his greatest of wishes,
Was studying fishes;
No water-logged corpse’s for him.
A message is hidden herein,
For our Canadian Cutey Shirin,
Her accents are hazy,
But we missed her like crazy,
In our post-presentation drinkin’
Joana, who de-serves a mention,
Proof reading with best of intention,
I take criticism poorly,
And reacted quite sorely,
(I weren’t really paying attention.)
To Alex who proof read most quickly,
His notes I responded to thickly,
Those words irritate me,
Tho’ they seek to placate me,
Once calmed, I was editing slickly.
Chris, whose proof read was quite thorough,
Whose grammar caused many brow furrow,
His battery ran out,
“You’ll do fine without”
Only the four then, from Market Har-bourgh.
But still I can't sleep.
No idea why.
However, I using all this extra awake time to do something useful - well one burst of extra awake time, the rest is for reading Harry Potter.
I was lying awake staring at the ceiling, then the wall, then the other wall - not really one for lying still when i can't sleep - and i start coming up with limericks to amuse my still active brain.
I suggested a while ago that my dissertation's acknowledgements may take limerick form (in the end they didn't because i was too busy writing sensible words to be lyrical) but i managed to find some words that rhymed well, so some people got a limerick. (The actual acknowledgements thank people properly, this is just limeicky nonsense)
The first three are from late night, November 27th, the other three i just put together now - under the influence of a head injury that i sustained this afternoon.
The rhyme on the last ones a little tricky, so best of luck reading them.
Acknowledgements
Acknowledgements of my dissertation
- a source of continued frustration,
With these peoples persistence,
Proof reads and assistance,
It’s finally reached publication.
There was an old fellow called Jim,
Who needed to learn how to swim,
Coz his greatest of wishes,
Was studying fishes;
No water-logged corpse’s for him.
A message is hidden herein,
For our Canadian Cutey Shirin,
Her accents are hazy,
But we missed her like crazy,
In our post-presentation drinkin’
Joana, who de-serves a mention,
Proof reading with best of intention,
I take criticism poorly,
And reacted quite sorely,
(I weren’t really paying attention.)
To Alex who proof read most quickly,
His notes I responded to thickly,
Those words irritate me,
Tho’ they seek to placate me,
Once calmed, I was editing slickly.
Chris, whose proof read was quite thorough,
Whose grammar caused many brow furrow,
His battery ran out,
“You’ll do fine without”
Only the four then, from Market Har-bourgh.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Last Legs
I'm feeling a little spookified at the moment.
Turns out I've been having an unintentional David Duchovny day.
Loads of Californication. Watching him be a heavy drinking, womanising, writer; it really gives me something to aspire to, you know?
I had a bunch of episodes stored up and as I had little else to do today, (more on that later probably), I decided to watch my way through them.
Then after tea, an episode of the X-Files comes on. This is what spooked me. It's this village full of people eating brains of people that don't fit in.
Now I'm left on my own in the house with a pair of dogs that shake like crazy (because they do) and they are keeping an eye on the door because obviously something between the living room and the edge of their hearing somewhere down the road is making some noises. It's this uncertainty that gives me the willies. When the dogs keep (and i mean keep because they were doing it a second ago) keep looking for something I can't see, I'm fairly sure that they are getting ready for the axe wielding, big mask wearing, brain eater to jump out.
Cleverly I have a plan. The coffee table has a glass top, or there's a bottle on the bookcase that's almost empty. Granted the bottle's still got a little of some pretty expensive stuff in and is quite light - I'm sure I'd get loads more power behind a 1m by 50cm sheet of glass, even if it would be harder to wield.
Still I'll see what instinct does to me, I could have the power of some kind of man-tiger in me just waiting to be called upon.
As anyone who has read more than one of these knows, my dissertation is due pretty soon. Good news is that I have indeed written more than the 7500 word minimum, but less than the 10,000 word maximum. So I've handed my crazy mutant baby over to my charming proof readers, who all of course have real lives and so are very kind to do this. The difficulty with the shape that I have at the moment is that it's not like every other project. I ain't researching anything. It's a making project. So, it would be alot easier to follow if I wrote it completely chronologically, but then again, maybe the issue is because I'm not quite smart enough to do anything the way I'm told. I'm not saying it's a bad 50-something pages, just that it reads a bit like one of those stories that they do from multiple perspectives. First off, Method-Doug tells you how to follow him. He's very much a backward looking guy, dwells on the past and the way things were. Results-Doug is a bit more useful, he can tell you what everyone else is saying, he knows his stuff (but as his stuff is creating this specific set of teaching materials, it's still not that useful). Finally you get Discussion-Doug. It's up to him to show off how smart he is, so he's quoting everyone, blaming other people, and in a brilliant move, pointing out how slight failure is actually better than a win as it really teaches you something useful.
But now it's getting proof read. As most people who have proof read to my face will know, I don't take this well. I got a list of notes from a friend who took his time to read it for me and the first few ones, I went though, "Nope, Wrong, You don't know as much as me about this topic, don't be daft." It was around this point I realised that if I'm getting people to proof read, deciding that I know best and ignoring anything they isn't going to help. Here I did manage to take some of what was being said in and make some improvements. Hooray! Tiny amount of personal growth!
And speaking of tiny, there really is a limit to the number of times you can hear "That's not long enough", or "Try making this a little longer", before you start questioning your masculinity.
So I was watching Strictly Come Dancing and John Barrowman is on singing Everything she does is magic, and it turns out he has an album out for Christmas! Yay!
I need to balance that one out with some overt heterosexuality. Smokey and the Bandit! Barbecued meat! Real Ale! Jessica Albas bottom!
Hooray! Balance is restored to the universe and I can stop writing.
Except to say that I just saw the word Horspitial, which I really hope is a real word for horse vets.
Turns out I've been having an unintentional David Duchovny day.
Loads of Californication. Watching him be a heavy drinking, womanising, writer; it really gives me something to aspire to, you know?
I had a bunch of episodes stored up and as I had little else to do today, (more on that later probably), I decided to watch my way through them.
Then after tea, an episode of the X-Files comes on. This is what spooked me. It's this village full of people eating brains of people that don't fit in.
Now I'm left on my own in the house with a pair of dogs that shake like crazy (because they do) and they are keeping an eye on the door because obviously something between the living room and the edge of their hearing somewhere down the road is making some noises. It's this uncertainty that gives me the willies. When the dogs keep (and i mean keep because they were doing it a second ago) keep looking for something I can't see, I'm fairly sure that they are getting ready for the axe wielding, big mask wearing, brain eater to jump out.
Cleverly I have a plan. The coffee table has a glass top, or there's a bottle on the bookcase that's almost empty. Granted the bottle's still got a little of some pretty expensive stuff in and is quite light - I'm sure I'd get loads more power behind a 1m by 50cm sheet of glass, even if it would be harder to wield.
Still I'll see what instinct does to me, I could have the power of some kind of man-tiger in me just waiting to be called upon.
As anyone who has read more than one of these knows, my dissertation is due pretty soon. Good news is that I have indeed written more than the 7500 word minimum, but less than the 10,000 word maximum. So I've handed my crazy mutant baby over to my charming proof readers, who all of course have real lives and so are very kind to do this. The difficulty with the shape that I have at the moment is that it's not like every other project. I ain't researching anything. It's a making project. So, it would be alot easier to follow if I wrote it completely chronologically, but then again, maybe the issue is because I'm not quite smart enough to do anything the way I'm told. I'm not saying it's a bad 50-something pages, just that it reads a bit like one of those stories that they do from multiple perspectives. First off, Method-Doug tells you how to follow him. He's very much a backward looking guy, dwells on the past and the way things were. Results-Doug is a bit more useful, he can tell you what everyone else is saying, he knows his stuff (but as his stuff is creating this specific set of teaching materials, it's still not that useful). Finally you get Discussion-Doug. It's up to him to show off how smart he is, so he's quoting everyone, blaming other people, and in a brilliant move, pointing out how slight failure is actually better than a win as it really teaches you something useful.
But now it's getting proof read. As most people who have proof read to my face will know, I don't take this well. I got a list of notes from a friend who took his time to read it for me and the first few ones, I went though, "Nope, Wrong, You don't know as much as me about this topic, don't be daft." It was around this point I realised that if I'm getting people to proof read, deciding that I know best and ignoring anything they isn't going to help. Here I did manage to take some of what was being said in and make some improvements. Hooray! Tiny amount of personal growth!
And speaking of tiny, there really is a limit to the number of times you can hear "That's not long enough", or "Try making this a little longer", before you start questioning your masculinity.
So I was watching Strictly Come Dancing and John Barrowman is on singing Everything she does is magic, and it turns out he has an album out for Christmas! Yay!
I need to balance that one out with some overt heterosexuality. Smokey and the Bandit! Barbecued meat! Real Ale! Jessica Albas bottom!
Hooray! Balance is restored to the universe and I can stop writing.
Except to say that I just saw the word Horspitial, which I really hope is a real word for horse vets.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Studio 60
I've just been watching the two episodes of studio 60 that i recorded last night (theres a fancy box under the tv that does it for me automatically - aint that exciting?)
anyway i loves me some studio 60 and it makes me feel pretty smart and it made me realise i havent written anything non science/sci comm related for ages and im just itching to be odd for a bit.
but first, or second i guess coz there's that first bit... before i continue i want to send a blug to hayley for commenting on my actual blog not the facebook or FaW feeds - you gotta be the first person to bother looking at that site and so i blug you. (blugs for the uneducated, not that any of you are of course, but blugs are a cross between a blog and a hug and it's what you get for posting at the origin of my posts rather than the end pont. origin website-wise, not my head, which has no comment box)
but! (not butt! as i've been locked inside and unable to scope the honeyz)
but!
i have been to the movies to see stardust!
which i was excited about previously and you may of read, or not i guess but if you remembered you definitly deserve a blug, or a manly handshake if your too sweaty and/or sticky.
Gotta say i loved it, (stardust), just because it's pretty weird.
i was looking forward to manly sky piracy, but robert de niro was so very funny in a "that was totally not what i expected" kinda way. also i'm probably either getting longer hair or a bowler hat because of the hero, but it could go either way at the moment.
but it's so going in my weird and cool fairytale movie pile, with The Princess Bride (which must be watched by everyone as soon as they can find it)
as you'd expect theres not been much in terms of out doors adventuring, what with me plowing through 500 words of dissertation a day (many of them of the intellegent variety).
but i have been travelling the country in a car as i am want to do of an occasion. theres this bathroom in a motorway service station, (this just has classic story written all over it), but im walking into this bathroom, tweaking my look in the mirrors over the sink when i realise the refection staring back at me is a shortish plumpish baldish buisness man. this is not what i'm expecting to see, being of the tallish, skinnyish, hairyish persuasion. i do my cartoon double take and realise that these rows of sinks are in fact mirrorless and that the man opposite me seems to be under the impression he's only two sinks away from a total loonatic.
anyhow, i am going crazy. but i may actually finish my dissertation on time - still a long way to go, i'm around the half way mark prose-wise, but what i've done is going to need tinkering to stop it being blatent lies, self-contradictory nonsence and quotes from movies with surprisingly little to do with science communicating teaching materials.
also the take that song from stardust is on repeat to add to or sooth my madness, i just don't know which.
p.s. the fancy recording box under my tv is not a video recorder, i happen to be fairly with it technology wise and it's clearly a magic v-box, containing witch craft and a fat, grumpy pixie with a copy of the radiotimes.
p.p.s. blugs are also blue slugs, but i'm using the verb rather than the noun, duh
anyway i loves me some studio 60 and it makes me feel pretty smart and it made me realise i havent written anything non science/sci comm related for ages and im just itching to be odd for a bit.
but first, or second i guess coz there's that first bit... before i continue i want to send a blug to hayley for commenting on my actual blog not the facebook or FaW feeds - you gotta be the first person to bother looking at that site and so i blug you. (blugs for the uneducated, not that any of you are of course, but blugs are a cross between a blog and a hug and it's what you get for posting at the origin of my posts rather than the end pont. origin website-wise, not my head, which has no comment box)
but! (not butt! as i've been locked inside and unable to scope the honeyz)
but!
i have been to the movies to see stardust!
which i was excited about previously and you may of read, or not i guess but if you remembered you definitly deserve a blug, or a manly handshake if your too sweaty and/or sticky.
Gotta say i loved it, (stardust), just because it's pretty weird.
i was looking forward to manly sky piracy, but robert de niro was so very funny in a "that was totally not what i expected" kinda way. also i'm probably either getting longer hair or a bowler hat because of the hero, but it could go either way at the moment.
but it's so going in my weird and cool fairytale movie pile, with The Princess Bride (which must be watched by everyone as soon as they can find it)
as you'd expect theres not been much in terms of out doors adventuring, what with me plowing through 500 words of dissertation a day (many of them of the intellegent variety).
but i have been travelling the country in a car as i am want to do of an occasion. theres this bathroom in a motorway service station, (this just has classic story written all over it), but im walking into this bathroom, tweaking my look in the mirrors over the sink when i realise the refection staring back at me is a shortish plumpish baldish buisness man. this is not what i'm expecting to see, being of the tallish, skinnyish, hairyish persuasion. i do my cartoon double take and realise that these rows of sinks are in fact mirrorless and that the man opposite me seems to be under the impression he's only two sinks away from a total loonatic.
anyhow, i am going crazy. but i may actually finish my dissertation on time - still a long way to go, i'm around the half way mark prose-wise, but what i've done is going to need tinkering to stop it being blatent lies, self-contradictory nonsence and quotes from movies with surprisingly little to do with science communicating teaching materials.
also the take that song from stardust is on repeat to add to or sooth my madness, i just don't know which.
p.s. the fancy recording box under my tv is not a video recorder, i happen to be fairly with it technology wise and it's clearly a magic v-box, containing witch craft and a fat, grumpy pixie with a copy of the radiotimes.
p.p.s. blugs are also blue slugs, but i'm using the verb rather than the noun, duh
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Wowzers
I'm feeling manly, if slightly foolish right now. My "COME ON!!" roar that usually accompanies an exceptional drive in rugby (viewing not playing, obviously) does sound good, but as it's quite a bit louder than most of my hiding behind a cushion type usualness, it does make me feel a bit silly, especially when done in polite company. Clearly this is the key advantage to being down the pub - any lack of civility is to be expected.
But, really a bit of manlyness is nice, because it makes up for the fairly pathetic lack of manlyness that was my bristol trip.
So my dissertation has passed the presentation stage. i had to go to bristol on tuesday(?, i think) to present what ive done so far. it was a four hour trip down in a complete white out of rain, very exciting, very slow, but a perfect time to have pirates of the caribbean in the cd player. surely there must of been other cars out there singing sea shanties at the top of their voice as the car aqua-plains at rather high speeds. (i did get to a corner where a sign warns us to stay at fifty and i remember thinking "hmm... best get back down to seventy," then, "down?! eh?")
presentation was ok and i got to see loads of bristol types which was nice, but after all of the ale drinking and sleeping on the floor of the house of sci comm with a noisy german and i left with one of the most pathetic wounds possible.
lots of people i hadn't seen in months and wouldn't be seeing for a while. all the emotional hellos and goodbyes actually pulled a muscle in my shoulder.
thats right, a hugging injury.
god damn it. what the hell?!
but i took it like a man - the drive back with such a serious shoulder pain was tough, but i soldiered through.
i dragged myself back home and slept for thirty six hours.
now there's just my dissertation's actual writing to do. through the magic that is copy and paste i'm currently at 3094. and as long as my hug wounds don't slow me down to much i might do ok.
that's might though.
coz it's me.
and you can never be sure how i'm going to hurt myself next...
But, really a bit of manlyness is nice, because it makes up for the fairly pathetic lack of manlyness that was my bristol trip.
So my dissertation has passed the presentation stage. i had to go to bristol on tuesday(?, i think) to present what ive done so far. it was a four hour trip down in a complete white out of rain, very exciting, very slow, but a perfect time to have pirates of the caribbean in the cd player. surely there must of been other cars out there singing sea shanties at the top of their voice as the car aqua-plains at rather high speeds. (i did get to a corner where a sign warns us to stay at fifty and i remember thinking "hmm... best get back down to seventy," then, "down?! eh?")
presentation was ok and i got to see loads of bristol types which was nice, but after all of the ale drinking and sleeping on the floor of the house of sci comm with a noisy german and i left with one of the most pathetic wounds possible.
lots of people i hadn't seen in months and wouldn't be seeing for a while. all the emotional hellos and goodbyes actually pulled a muscle in my shoulder.
thats right, a hugging injury.
god damn it. what the hell?!
but i took it like a man - the drive back with such a serious shoulder pain was tough, but i soldiered through.
i dragged myself back home and slept for thirty six hours.
now there's just my dissertation's actual writing to do. through the magic that is copy and paste i'm currently at 3094. and as long as my hug wounds don't slow me down to much i might do ok.
that's might though.
coz it's me.
and you can never be sure how i'm going to hurt myself next...
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Tightness
Yep, it's getting to the pointy end of my dissertation.
I'm not surprisingly underprepared, but that's only because i was obviously not preparing.
What's managed to bother me recently is the attempts by my brain to calm itself. When other people start worrying that they havn't written much, i normally say "Ha, don't worry, i've written much less." Problem is this does not make me feel better when i say it to myself.
But in typical doug fashion i'm dragging myself over the finish line regardless.
Just finished watching the rugby for today - fantastic and makes me feel good about the image of myself forcing my dissertation over the 10,000 words line, dragging behind me the enormous blokes that are time constraints and a total lack of focus.
As usual i have much to distract me, my TV is on the fritz in a fairly terminal way, which is massively sad - you need to understand, this TV has been with me for years, so many tv, video, dvd and computer gaming memories. :'(
and while not watching TV would speed up most peoples work, my work is actually slowing down as i feel so sad about it.
the good news is that my job hunt may be nearing an end - im off to Culham in a week and a bit to see if they want me to help present a thing in schools about the sun, which as they havnt got anyone else seems pretty likely.
AND im looking into getting a car for the eventual/possibly quite soon relocation. and when a corsa (or corsair as my mum kept saying) is going for only a hundred quid, you know its gotta be good, only needs the seats fixing and wiper... something. but seat repair has the potential to be hours of fun, big seats, comfy seats, bench seats, leathery seats, racing seats, or the far more likely patchwork quilt seats.
i'd assume there was something wrong with the world if the car i owned wasn't on it's last legs, a neat and tidy car just doesnt fit me i'm afraid. until i have the cash to get a shiny new one, like an aston or a jag or something.
anyway
DISSERTATION HO!
I'm not surprisingly underprepared, but that's only because i was obviously not preparing.
What's managed to bother me recently is the attempts by my brain to calm itself. When other people start worrying that they havn't written much, i normally say "Ha, don't worry, i've written much less." Problem is this does not make me feel better when i say it to myself.
But in typical doug fashion i'm dragging myself over the finish line regardless.
Just finished watching the rugby for today - fantastic and makes me feel good about the image of myself forcing my dissertation over the 10,000 words line, dragging behind me the enormous blokes that are time constraints and a total lack of focus.
As usual i have much to distract me, my TV is on the fritz in a fairly terminal way, which is massively sad - you need to understand, this TV has been with me for years, so many tv, video, dvd and computer gaming memories. :'(
and while not watching TV would speed up most peoples work, my work is actually slowing down as i feel so sad about it.
the good news is that my job hunt may be nearing an end - im off to Culham in a week and a bit to see if they want me to help present a thing in schools about the sun, which as they havnt got anyone else seems pretty likely.
AND im looking into getting a car for the eventual/possibly quite soon relocation. and when a corsa (or corsair as my mum kept saying) is going for only a hundred quid, you know its gotta be good, only needs the seats fixing and wiper... something. but seat repair has the potential to be hours of fun, big seats, comfy seats, bench seats, leathery seats, racing seats, or the far more likely patchwork quilt seats.
i'd assume there was something wrong with the world if the car i owned wasn't on it's last legs, a neat and tidy car just doesnt fit me i'm afraid. until i have the cash to get a shiny new one, like an aston or a jag or something.
anyway
DISSERTATION HO!
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