Not due to my strict devoutness, (ha, thank God i'm an Athiest) just because I am the lazy type.
And therefore, I am going to write very, very little in this post.
The problem is, I have thought of something that probably deserves quite a lot of attention, but hey, whadd'ya gonna do.
I'm thinking seriously about emigrating to Australia at the earliest opportunity.
There was something else too, but it is so earth-shatteringly important that I forgot what it was.
Damn.
Sunday 25 February 2007
Saturday 24 February 2007
Flip, twist, spin, Crack.
I went to that gymnastics thing again.
I didn't land on my neck this time, which was a distinct plus.
I did headbutt the edge of the trampoline after a particularly spectacular (and entirely unplanned) dismount though.
Ouch.
The comments box can for this post be renamed as the 'sympathy box' or possibly the 'that'll learn you, you bloody nutbag box'
On a lighter note, I learned to do proper backflips, the ones where you go onto your hands then onto your feet again then hands, feet, etc etc, like Michelle Pfpfpfpeiffer does as Catwoman in Batman Returns. Not that I want to get dressed up in black latex and somersault through rain soaked night time streets or anything. Er.
Ouch, note to self, don't prod the red bit on my head.
I didn't land on my neck this time, which was a distinct plus.
I did headbutt the edge of the trampoline after a particularly spectacular (and entirely unplanned) dismount though.
Ouch.
The comments box can for this post be renamed as the 'sympathy box' or possibly the 'that'll learn you, you bloody nutbag box'
On a lighter note, I learned to do proper backflips, the ones where you go onto your hands then onto your feet again then hands, feet, etc etc, like Michelle Pfpfpfpeiffer does as Catwoman in Batman Returns. Not that I want to get dressed up in black latex and somersault through rain soaked night time streets or anything. Er.
Ouch, note to self, don't prod the red bit on my head.
Monday 19 February 2007
Ah nivva deed thaa in me puff
Ah the wonders of accents, eh?
I am sometimes, admittedly rarely and usually by people with ludicrously thick regional accents themselves, accused of sounding a little bit like a farmer. Yes, sometimes I might possibly pronounce 'light' as if it had an extra 'o' in it, but that's as far as it goes I'm sure.
I don't say 'my luvverrrrr' and I don't own, nor have I seen in the flesh, a combine harvester.
I reckon (as I suppose most people do) I have a very neutral accent, kind of like the queen minus the poshness. I pronounce all my words the way they are written, vowels are strictly to be used as they are intended, and I don't use any weird regional slang either, or (and this really annoys me) do things like pronounce 'texts' as 'texes'. Argh.
Anyway, so there is me, Mr Neutral, and today I went to Bath to meet up with another signmaker to help him fit some graphics in the university library.
He came from Scotland
He even came from Glasgow.
He had the best accent. Ever.
The title of this post roughly translates as 'I never did that in all my live long years' which is one of the many hugely confusing but brilliantly interesting things he said to me today. I use that one as an example because it was one of the only things he said that I could actually translate, I found my self constantly saying 'pardon?' or 'sorry?' and then straining to pick out recognisable words so hard I swear it made me sweat a little.
We managed to do the job, more by gestures and pointing I reckon than by actual communication, (although I did figure out by the end of the day that 'skwidge' is 'squeegee', and 'cudd-a' is 'scalpel') but I had a whale of a time talking to him, and he was such a nice guy that I kept talking even though it was like holding a conversation with a badly plumbed house.
I'm going back tomorrow to finish it off and I will try to remember some of the slang terms he used and the phrases that he said, they were great.
So, Mr Neutral here is going to sit up all night and watch downloaded episodes of Taggart, so I might be able to piece some conversations together tomorrow, and because maybe secretly, I want to sound like that too.
'Ken ya pass me thaa thar wee rool so's aye ken chop this parna?'
(Would you be so kind as to hand me the ruler so that I may trim this section of vinyl?)
I am sometimes, admittedly rarely and usually by people with ludicrously thick regional accents themselves, accused of sounding a little bit like a farmer. Yes, sometimes I might possibly pronounce 'light' as if it had an extra 'o' in it, but that's as far as it goes I'm sure.
I don't say 'my luvverrrrr' and I don't own, nor have I seen in the flesh, a combine harvester.
I reckon (as I suppose most people do) I have a very neutral accent, kind of like the queen minus the poshness. I pronounce all my words the way they are written, vowels are strictly to be used as they are intended, and I don't use any weird regional slang either, or (and this really annoys me) do things like pronounce 'texts' as 'texes'. Argh.
Anyway, so there is me, Mr Neutral, and today I went to Bath to meet up with another signmaker to help him fit some graphics in the university library.
He came from Scotland
He even came from Glasgow.
He had the best accent. Ever.
The title of this post roughly translates as 'I never did that in all my live long years' which is one of the many hugely confusing but brilliantly interesting things he said to me today. I use that one as an example because it was one of the only things he said that I could actually translate, I found my self constantly saying 'pardon?' or 'sorry?' and then straining to pick out recognisable words so hard I swear it made me sweat a little.
We managed to do the job, more by gestures and pointing I reckon than by actual communication, (although I did figure out by the end of the day that 'skwidge' is 'squeegee', and 'cudd-a' is 'scalpel') but I had a whale of a time talking to him, and he was such a nice guy that I kept talking even though it was like holding a conversation with a badly plumbed house.
I'm going back tomorrow to finish it off and I will try to remember some of the slang terms he used and the phrases that he said, they were great.
So, Mr Neutral here is going to sit up all night and watch downloaded episodes of Taggart, so I might be able to piece some conversations together tomorrow, and because maybe secretly, I want to sound like that too.
'Ken ya pass me thaa thar wee rool so's aye ken chop this parna?'
(Would you be so kind as to hand me the ruler so that I may trim this section of vinyl?)
Sunday 18 February 2007
Sorry
Yes, look, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, I've been very very lax this last week, no posts for ages, I realise some of you out there have been crying onto your keyboards daily when you realised you won't be getting your Aimless fix again, sorry.
And the worst bit is, I have been doing loads of stuff that would make really good blog-fodder (can I copyright that term?) but I have had no time to write about it!
I went for a fantastic meal that I didnt have to pay for, I got myself a new job (temporarily), I've been travelling about a bit, met people, spent some money (a huge thing for me lately) all sorts of stuff I can't even think of right now. But the problem is that physics and the real world basically say that if I'm doing all this interesting stuff, I will have less time to actually write about it so you can read about it. Nuts.
And you won't get an update now either 'cos it's sunday and I can't be bothered. So nerr.
And the worst bit is, I have been doing loads of stuff that would make really good blog-fodder (can I copyright that term?) but I have had no time to write about it!
I went for a fantastic meal that I didnt have to pay for, I got myself a new job (temporarily), I've been travelling about a bit, met people, spent some money (a huge thing for me lately) all sorts of stuff I can't even think of right now. But the problem is that physics and the real world basically say that if I'm doing all this interesting stuff, I will have less time to actually write about it so you can read about it. Nuts.
And you won't get an update now either 'cos it's sunday and I can't be bothered. So nerr.
Friday 9 February 2007
Flip, twist, spin, snap.
Every time I go climbing, me and Rich always finish off the session by doing a kind of handstand-from-sitting-position thing which is really hard to do but good fun and kind of impressive I guess.
Sometimes we also mess about doing a few back somersaults as the floor is covered with a nice thick, spongy rubber matting that, while probably not reducing the risk of severe spinal doom in the event of an accident, it at least inspires a little confidence, which is handy when you plan to throw your body backwards over your own head.
I have always said I would like to do more of that sort of thing, like gymnastics, but possibly with less spandex, so last week we went to a local adult gym class.
I turned out to be really, really good, and possibly the most relaxed and informal event that has ever dared call itself a 'class' and gotten away with it.
Basically, after some faffing around when we got there, I found the guy in charge, and he said to me, and these are his actual, exact words: "Come for the adult gym yeah? OK well the hall is yours to do what you want with (gestures to indicate fully equipped gymnastics hall) and just try not to kill yourself, OK?"
That was it, seriously.
Well, detailed and thorough induction out of the way, me and Rich cracked on with trying not to kill ourselves, which we fully managed, and in spectacular fashion I might add.
It was so much fun, and we had managed to not kill ourselves so impressively, that we went back this week too.
You know that point where confidence takes over common sense for just a brief moment, but that moment is long enough to cause some serious problems?
Like when you think you are 'chummy' enough with the bouncer at your local club to crack a bit of a piss-taking joke at him, and then you realise common sense obviously ducked for cover for a moment there when you realise the bouncer is advancing toward you with a grin (not because of your joke, which probably wasn't that funny anyway) and pulling a steel bar out of his sleeve.
You know that moment?
Well I had one of those, it occurred roughly when I was landing from a round-off to a back somersault.
My Common Sense said 'I'm just nipping out to get some milk, Confidence, I'm going to leave you in charge, don't do anything silly'
My Confidence said something along the lines of 'hur hur hur'.
I start to do another back somersault after the first one, Common Sense comes rushing back in and screams 'Nooooooooo!' but my body replies 'sorry mate, too late'
I landed on my head.
Sometimes we also mess about doing a few back somersaults as the floor is covered with a nice thick, spongy rubber matting that, while probably not reducing the risk of severe spinal doom in the event of an accident, it at least inspires a little confidence, which is handy when you plan to throw your body backwards over your own head.
I have always said I would like to do more of that sort of thing, like gymnastics, but possibly with less spandex, so last week we went to a local adult gym class.
I turned out to be really, really good, and possibly the most relaxed and informal event that has ever dared call itself a 'class' and gotten away with it.
Basically, after some faffing around when we got there, I found the guy in charge, and he said to me, and these are his actual, exact words: "Come for the adult gym yeah? OK well the hall is yours to do what you want with (gestures to indicate fully equipped gymnastics hall) and just try not to kill yourself, OK?"
That was it, seriously.
Well, detailed and thorough induction out of the way, me and Rich cracked on with trying not to kill ourselves, which we fully managed, and in spectacular fashion I might add.
It was so much fun, and we had managed to not kill ourselves so impressively, that we went back this week too.
You know that point where confidence takes over common sense for just a brief moment, but that moment is long enough to cause some serious problems?
Like when you think you are 'chummy' enough with the bouncer at your local club to crack a bit of a piss-taking joke at him, and then you realise common sense obviously ducked for cover for a moment there when you realise the bouncer is advancing toward you with a grin (not because of your joke, which probably wasn't that funny anyway) and pulling a steel bar out of his sleeve.
You know that moment?
Well I had one of those, it occurred roughly when I was landing from a round-off to a back somersault.
My Common Sense said 'I'm just nipping out to get some milk, Confidence, I'm going to leave you in charge, don't do anything silly'
My Confidence said something along the lines of 'hur hur hur'.
I start to do another back somersault after the first one, Common Sense comes rushing back in and screams 'Nooooooooo!' but my body replies 'sorry mate, too late'
I landed on my head.
It's gone midnight
And I'm still up, fa la la!
OK, childish eagerness aside, this unemployed lark is certainly good for promoting unique sleep patterns, and it does give you a feeling of freedom, like I could do anything I want, whenever I want. Unfortunately you then have to read the small print which basically says *as long as it doesn't cost any money whatsoever, 'cos you have none, and you are earning none you bloody idiot*
So the opportunity to do anything I want, at any time, absolutely anything- usually results in me having a cup of tea and reading some more of my book.
I am being pro-active about getting a new job though, I even bought a jobs paper today.
No, I haven't read it yet, but I heard somewhere that it's the thought that counts.
I have sent my CV and a grovelly fawny letter to every design agency in the vicinity though, asking about junior designer positions or even work experience, and so far have received 1, yes 'one' reply.
And that said 'no thanks'.
Nuts.
Well next week is officially 'lower my standards' week, I will go out and look for a job, any job, just so I can afford to exist for the foreseeable future until something I really want to do comes along. So, I'll be looking for any openings for bed testers, chocolate tasters, climbing hold testers, you know, just bread and butter stuff.
Seriously if anyone knows of something, anything I can do that will earn me a fraction more than minimum wage, please let me know, my wallet has been on a diet for so long I think it has eaten my national insurance number card and all my old receipts.
Not that i'm desperate or anything.
Pleeeeaassssseeee.
Right, i'm off to do something that isn't usually done in the middle of the night, just because I can. I might fly a kite, or go down the beach.
OK, childish eagerness aside, this unemployed lark is certainly good for promoting unique sleep patterns, and it does give you a feeling of freedom, like I could do anything I want, whenever I want. Unfortunately you then have to read the small print which basically says *as long as it doesn't cost any money whatsoever, 'cos you have none, and you are earning none you bloody idiot*
So the opportunity to do anything I want, at any time, absolutely anything- usually results in me having a cup of tea and reading some more of my book.
I am being pro-active about getting a new job though, I even bought a jobs paper today.
No, I haven't read it yet, but I heard somewhere that it's the thought that counts.
I have sent my CV and a grovelly fawny letter to every design agency in the vicinity though, asking about junior designer positions or even work experience, and so far have received 1, yes 'one' reply.
And that said 'no thanks'.
Nuts.
Well next week is officially 'lower my standards' week, I will go out and look for a job, any job, just so I can afford to exist for the foreseeable future until something I really want to do comes along. So, I'll be looking for any openings for bed testers, chocolate tasters, climbing hold testers, you know, just bread and butter stuff.
Seriously if anyone knows of something, anything I can do that will earn me a fraction more than minimum wage, please let me know, my wallet has been on a diet for so long I think it has eaten my national insurance number card and all my old receipts.
Not that i'm desperate or anything.
Pleeeeaassssseeee.
Right, i'm off to do something that isn't usually done in the middle of the night, just because I can. I might fly a kite, or go down the beach.
Tuesday 6 February 2007
Better and better
His surroundings slowly sharpened themselves back into focus and he looked around.
As always, he had become a little too absorbed by the Su-Doku in front of him, paying little attention to anything else until the numbers had all found their rightful place, but as he clicked the tip of the pen closed, he once more focused on the train carriage around him.
His mind focused on something else as well, a weight pressing on his right shoulder, not heavy, but solidly there, reassuringly there.
The weight was her. She had fallen asleep in the seat next to him, with her head resting against his slightly lowered shoulder.
From where he was, all he could see was a mass of brown and blond wavy hair, (hair that she thought was a tangled mess and he thought was just perfect, not immaculately styled but always effortlessly suited to her) and he could just smell her, no perfume today, just her natural fragrance, not strong but still intoxicating and unmistakably unique.
He was happy. He had every reason to be happy. Recent events had all been good, the weekend went well, meeting some of her friends and experiencing a little London living for a change had been exciting and interesting.
His life in general was good, changing jobs soon promised to be both frightening but positive, friendships were strong and getting stronger, the world was full of opportunity and positivity.
But even without these things, he would be happy, even with a lot more stress and unpleasantness in his life, he would still be happy, because he had her.
He had fallen in love in a very short time, and incredibly as far as he was concerned, she had too. She constantly called him amazing, but he knew that it was her that was making him so amazing, he was responding and interacting with her like never before and this meant everything he said seemed to be just the right thing, at just the right time.
If he wanted to make her laugh, (which he did all the time) the right words would come straight away, and her gorgeous close-lipped smile would appear, then her lips would part, showing a glimpse of her incredible tiny teeth as she laughed, always without a hint of self-consciousness.
He could rely on her to be there for him, whatever the situation, but even more incredibly, he knew he could rely on himself to be there for her, seemingly without any effort at all. It was what he wanted to do, what made him and her happy and it was so easy.
He knew she was special, maybe more special than anyone he had met before, and he knew he was exactly where he wanted to be. It may have just been a train, swaying and clunking it's way through the dark back to Southampton Central, but it wasn't about where he was physically, it was because he was with her.
He was happy and he knew it.
Then the train clunks harder than usual and the weight lifts from his shoulder as she wakes up.
She immediately turns her head to look at him, he looks straight back at her and she smiles, as gorgeous as ever.
He immediately knows everything he just thought about is right, just seeing her face, looking at him like she does, confirms that what they have is incredible.
Then just from looking at him, her smile eventually cracks wider and wider, and he thinks:
"It just gets better and better"
As always, he had become a little too absorbed by the Su-Doku in front of him, paying little attention to anything else until the numbers had all found their rightful place, but as he clicked the tip of the pen closed, he once more focused on the train carriage around him.
His mind focused on something else as well, a weight pressing on his right shoulder, not heavy, but solidly there, reassuringly there.
The weight was her. She had fallen asleep in the seat next to him, with her head resting against his slightly lowered shoulder.
From where he was, all he could see was a mass of brown and blond wavy hair, (hair that she thought was a tangled mess and he thought was just perfect, not immaculately styled but always effortlessly suited to her) and he could just smell her, no perfume today, just her natural fragrance, not strong but still intoxicating and unmistakably unique.
He was happy. He had every reason to be happy. Recent events had all been good, the weekend went well, meeting some of her friends and experiencing a little London living for a change had been exciting and interesting.
His life in general was good, changing jobs soon promised to be both frightening but positive, friendships were strong and getting stronger, the world was full of opportunity and positivity.
But even without these things, he would be happy, even with a lot more stress and unpleasantness in his life, he would still be happy, because he had her.
He had fallen in love in a very short time, and incredibly as far as he was concerned, she had too. She constantly called him amazing, but he knew that it was her that was making him so amazing, he was responding and interacting with her like never before and this meant everything he said seemed to be just the right thing, at just the right time.
If he wanted to make her laugh, (which he did all the time) the right words would come straight away, and her gorgeous close-lipped smile would appear, then her lips would part, showing a glimpse of her incredible tiny teeth as she laughed, always without a hint of self-consciousness.
He could rely on her to be there for him, whatever the situation, but even more incredibly, he knew he could rely on himself to be there for her, seemingly without any effort at all. It was what he wanted to do, what made him and her happy and it was so easy.
He knew she was special, maybe more special than anyone he had met before, and he knew he was exactly where he wanted to be. It may have just been a train, swaying and clunking it's way through the dark back to Southampton Central, but it wasn't about where he was physically, it was because he was with her.
He was happy and he knew it.
Then the train clunks harder than usual and the weight lifts from his shoulder as she wakes up.
She immediately turns her head to look at him, he looks straight back at her and she smiles, as gorgeous as ever.
He immediately knows everything he just thought about is right, just seeing her face, looking at him like she does, confirms that what they have is incredible.
Then just from looking at him, her smile eventually cracks wider and wider, and he thinks:
"It just gets better and better"
Monday 5 February 2007
Can I have a job please?
I'm a bit scared.
I'm scared of looking for jobs, the things people expect of the applicants scares me, I'm scared of the thought of the interview, and I'm generally scared of not finding something that I will be able to do.
So, can someone just give me a job please? Like "turn up at 9am, we'll have a desk waiting for you" sort of thing?
It's not the job i'm frightened of, it's getting one that scares the crap out of me.
I'm scared of looking for jobs, the things people expect of the applicants scares me, I'm scared of the thought of the interview, and I'm generally scared of not finding something that I will be able to do.
So, can someone just give me a job please? Like "turn up at 9am, we'll have a desk waiting for you" sort of thing?
It's not the job i'm frightened of, it's getting one that scares the crap out of me.
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