Yes, I am still alive, despite the worst effects of a combination of uncooked chicken and a vertical icefall.
Climbing is good for you, but not when combined with vomiting and diahorrea.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Saturday, February 12, 2005
It's been a long time...
...Since I le le le left you
So here's a dope beat to step to.
Enough of that silliness.
Well, what with one thing and another I've been a bit of an absentee from the blog of late, despite many things happening. Here is the rundown:
1) My masters didn't work out because there wasn't enough material for them to give me a degree. Bit narked that I wasted so much time writing it, but other than that not too pissed off.
2) I have a temp job at the Scottish Executive. Oh yes, I am working for the government, and really quite enjoying it. I'm the lowest-grade office monkey in a fairly obscure department, but it's pretty stress-free, and I do get to do interesting stuff occasionally. I get free internet access, but unfortunaltely, the web-handholding robot thing doesn't like blogger. Oh and it blocks any emails sent to me with swearing in (particulary useful when all your mates are low-grade tourettes sufferers). I wear a suit and tie at work (this week offset by some sandals due to massive foot blisterage). BE frightened.
3) I've been climbing a LOT. Highlights include a pre-xmas ascent climb on Beinn Eighe in Torridon, some awesome weather in Glen Coe, a bit of mysteriously-hidden ice-boshing on Aonach Mor (hooray for the cable car) and a slushy near-epic in Lochnagar. I may have said it before many times, but I must say it again: SCOTLAND IS AMAZING and all you poor suckers who live in England are fools. Example? I saw the Aurora Borealis the last time I went to Glen Coe. Go on, try not to be jealous.
4) Good things I have cosnumed recently: the LCD soundsystem album, Charlie Brookers Screen Burn, an awesome Delgados gig, Peep Show on Channel 4, strawberry Alpen bars, gin, Five (or more) Portions of Fruit and Veg Per Day, the new Sage Francis album, Catch 22, SuperFeet (£30 for a pair of shoe insoles? And worth it? YES!), and the Buffalo XPD hood. The nice Hare Krishna lady I spoke to in the street seems to think that you don't need things in your life to be happy, but she clearly hasn't experienced any of the above.
Anyway, Stelios is about to evict me with a big orange 'Fuck off' sign if I don't pay for more internet time so I must leave you.
Glen Coe beckons again...
So here's a dope beat to step to.
Enough of that silliness.
Well, what with one thing and another I've been a bit of an absentee from the blog of late, despite many things happening. Here is the rundown:
1) My masters didn't work out because there wasn't enough material for them to give me a degree. Bit narked that I wasted so much time writing it, but other than that not too pissed off.
2) I have a temp job at the Scottish Executive. Oh yes, I am working for the government, and really quite enjoying it. I'm the lowest-grade office monkey in a fairly obscure department, but it's pretty stress-free, and I do get to do interesting stuff occasionally. I get free internet access, but unfortunaltely, the web-handholding robot thing doesn't like blogger. Oh and it blocks any emails sent to me with swearing in (particulary useful when all your mates are low-grade tourettes sufferers). I wear a suit and tie at work (this week offset by some sandals due to massive foot blisterage). BE frightened.
3) I've been climbing a LOT. Highlights include a pre-xmas ascent climb on Beinn Eighe in Torridon, some awesome weather in Glen Coe, a bit of mysteriously-hidden ice-boshing on Aonach Mor (hooray for the cable car) and a slushy near-epic in Lochnagar. I may have said it before many times, but I must say it again: SCOTLAND IS AMAZING and all you poor suckers who live in England are fools. Example? I saw the Aurora Borealis the last time I went to Glen Coe. Go on, try not to be jealous.
4) Good things I have cosnumed recently: the LCD soundsystem album, Charlie Brookers Screen Burn, an awesome Delgados gig, Peep Show on Channel 4, strawberry Alpen bars, gin, Five (or more) Portions of Fruit and Veg Per Day, the new Sage Francis album, Catch 22, SuperFeet (£30 for a pair of shoe insoles? And worth it? YES!), and the Buffalo XPD hood. The nice Hare Krishna lady I spoke to in the street seems to think that you don't need things in your life to be happy, but she clearly hasn't experienced any of the above.
Anyway, Stelios is about to evict me with a big orange 'Fuck off' sign if I don't pay for more internet time so I must leave you.
Glen Coe beckons again...
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Ice Ice Baby
Winter is by far the bestest season ever. I mean summer's great with the long days and occasional sunshine, but it doesn't have the allure of winter.
So there's the downsides of winter. The days are short and everybody gets all crabby as a result. There's christmas, which is good because I get to see my family and take a bit of a break, but all of that comes at the expense of being bombarded with shite xmas music, ugly decorations and fearsome consumerism. And there's the flu and all that, which loves to take advantage of my pathetic immune system to make me sound like a terrorist on the phone for the best part of the season.
BUT...
There's those great days where there isnt a cloud in the sky, the ground is frosty, and the brass monkeys become eunuchs. Although rare, there's nothing like the incredible feeling the first rays of sunshine you've seen in weeks give you. And there's usually an ace skiddin run somewhere set up by excited schoolkids, oblivious to their granny-breaking potential.
And there's snow.
I'm told sometimes I act rather childlike when I'm happy. When I'm in the snow, I fully digress to being about 9 years old. Except now I'm old enough to go sledging at midnight, when the snow on Arthur's Seat is at its best. It's impossible to describe the sheer joy that something as simple as a few ice crystals on the ground brings me, but if you ever see me frolicking like a fool through the snow then you'll understand.
But the very best thing about winter involves what I've mentioned above, mixed with one of my other most favourite things: Mountains.
Mountains in the winter just look right. Whilst Scotland's hills are dramatic at every time of the year, once they become snow-topped they take on a whole new type of beauty. They seem so much more severe, more foreboding. And in the late afternoon sun they look like they glow from within.
Walking up a mountian in Scotland in the winter is also infinitely more fun than in summer. No midges for a start. But as well as the amazing views, you get the fun of strapping crampons to your feet and weilding a quite frankly menacing ice axe. Just to go for a walk. There's also amazing ice-structures and winter wildlife to be seen. I rarely go hillwalking anymore, but in winter I can barely resist.
Even better than that though is winter climbing. Winter climbing in Scoltand is at once the most and least fun thing a mountaineer can do. There's standing at a belay for hours hopping from foot to foot as you're showered with powder snow and ice. There's being buffeted with ice-filed winds as you teeter gently on your crampon points, several meters above your last protection. There's hot aches in your fingers, burning in your calves and icicles hanging from your nose. There's hypothermia (which is even less fun than it sounds). But none of it matters when you sink your axe into a perfect piece of ice or frozen turf. Or when you're near the top of the route slamming your front-points into perfect neve snow. Or when you get to the top and slip into your down jacket, instantly becoming impervious to the freezing temperatures and brutal winds.
Yeah. Winter's magic. Bring it on.
So there's the downsides of winter. The days are short and everybody gets all crabby as a result. There's christmas, which is good because I get to see my family and take a bit of a break, but all of that comes at the expense of being bombarded with shite xmas music, ugly decorations and fearsome consumerism. And there's the flu and all that, which loves to take advantage of my pathetic immune system to make me sound like a terrorist on the phone for the best part of the season.
BUT...
There's those great days where there isnt a cloud in the sky, the ground is frosty, and the brass monkeys become eunuchs. Although rare, there's nothing like the incredible feeling the first rays of sunshine you've seen in weeks give you. And there's usually an ace skiddin run somewhere set up by excited schoolkids, oblivious to their granny-breaking potential.
And there's snow.
I'm told sometimes I act rather childlike when I'm happy. When I'm in the snow, I fully digress to being about 9 years old. Except now I'm old enough to go sledging at midnight, when the snow on Arthur's Seat is at its best. It's impossible to describe the sheer joy that something as simple as a few ice crystals on the ground brings me, but if you ever see me frolicking like a fool through the snow then you'll understand.
But the very best thing about winter involves what I've mentioned above, mixed with one of my other most favourite things: Mountains.
Mountains in the winter just look right. Whilst Scotland's hills are dramatic at every time of the year, once they become snow-topped they take on a whole new type of beauty. They seem so much more severe, more foreboding. And in the late afternoon sun they look like they glow from within.
Walking up a mountian in Scotland in the winter is also infinitely more fun than in summer. No midges for a start. But as well as the amazing views, you get the fun of strapping crampons to your feet and weilding a quite frankly menacing ice axe. Just to go for a walk. There's also amazing ice-structures and winter wildlife to be seen. I rarely go hillwalking anymore, but in winter I can barely resist.
Even better than that though is winter climbing. Winter climbing in Scoltand is at once the most and least fun thing a mountaineer can do. There's standing at a belay for hours hopping from foot to foot as you're showered with powder snow and ice. There's being buffeted with ice-filed winds as you teeter gently on your crampon points, several meters above your last protection. There's hot aches in your fingers, burning in your calves and icicles hanging from your nose. There's hypothermia (which is even less fun than it sounds). But none of it matters when you sink your axe into a perfect piece of ice or frozen turf. Or when you're near the top of the route slamming your front-points into perfect neve snow. Or when you get to the top and slip into your down jacket, instantly becoming impervious to the freezing temperatures and brutal winds.
Yeah. Winter's magic. Bring it on.
Friday, November 12, 2004
20 random tunes from winamp
To alleviate some boredom I've decided to do one of these 20 random tune things with the meagre collection of mp3's on my work computer:
The White Stripes - Aluminum: Bad American spelling notwithstanding, it's quite a nice little number. Just a crunching riff and someone going 'waaaaaaah' for a couple of minutes. The closest thing the stripes do to album filler I suppose.
Pixies - I've Been Tired: Black Francis telling a story about shocking a wooly hippie type by expressing a fear of sexually transmitted disease from prostitutes. And then Screaming 'I've been tired' a few times. One of the reasons why 'Come on Pilgrim' is ace.
Laeto - Bad Taste Party: Fuck off Laeto, you sound like Guns N Roses, only dull.
I Am Kloot - Morning Rain: One of the Wirral's best kept sectrets, the Kloot were originally bandied about with the 'New Acoustic Movement', despite being a million miles away from the twee stoners who embodied that 'scene'. God knows what most of these lyrics are about, but they sound great, and with fantastic melodies. One of my favourite albums to put on to sing along to in the kitchen.
Buck 65 - Square Three: One quarter of Buck's incredible 'Square' album, this is seventeen minutes of superb hip-hop. This sounds like no other artist you care to think of. His unique take on the world - old fashioned, romantic and quite frankly bizzare - is rapped eloquently over some equally unique beats. I will be sure to post a more detalied rant about how great his music is in the future. This square contains 'Stella', a song about the tragic life of an ordinary girl, which will fail to touch only the most barren of souls.
Minotaur Shock - Local Violin Shop: Yay! Some genius Bristolian electronica, with my two favourite instruments: drums and glockenspiel (apparently played by some sort of mentalist). Also, Minotaur Shock is a cool name, and the tune doesn't have any violins in it. Yeehaa.
Fog - Pneumonia (Coldcut Remix): Plinky-plonky-plink go some violins (being plucked) thumpy-doofy-thump go some drums while some bloke sings something that's more depressing than the music suggests. Has the singular ability to make me sing the line that goes 'I am a venetian blind' for days without knowing why.
The Delgados - I Fought the Angels: The opener from their stunning new album 'Universal Audio'. Shows the band's previous LP 'Hate' up as the self-indulgent misery-fest that it was. One of those songs that restore your faith in music.
Hexstatic - Auto: It's a pretty cool idea - sample some automotive type sounds and craft them into a track. Bit dull in practice though.
Sage Francis - Crack Pipes: Another of the great avant-garde hip-hoppers on the Anticon records label. It's not exactly a party tune, what with it being about addiction and all, but it manages to do the 'hip-hop with a heart' thing witout condescending. I will certainly be cheking out more of his stuff in the future.
The Rapture - Olio: I don't like The Cure. I don't like house music. This sounds like The Cure doing house music. I love it.
At the Drive-In - Rolodex Propaganda: AtD-I's 'Relationship of Command' showed that it was possible to have a major label deal and a big-name producer and still make hardcore punk that you could use to sandblast buildings with. Should have been as big as Nirvana if they hadn't imploded under the pressure. Right before I was supposed to see them in concert too, the buggers.
PJ Harvey - This Mess We're In: Yay, two of the best voices in modern music (Peej herself and Thom Yorke) singing a beautifully melancholy song about a complicated break-up. In New York to make it more romantic.
Jim O'Rourke - Mentalist record producer makes grand statement of a record. The cover has a picture of Jim's head on a baby being fellated by a toy rabit. The album's alrght but this tune is a bit crap.
Snow Parol - Run: You've probably heard The 'Patrol's breakthrough single. It's ace and proves why they deserve to sell a squillion records.
Actually, I cant be arsed to to a whole 20, as its time to go to another (!) bouldering competition. It's all a bit indie-boy and predicatable I know (I do listen to pop music and stuff as well, honest) but hey, why should I apologise for my music taste anyway?
The White Stripes - Aluminum: Bad American spelling notwithstanding, it's quite a nice little number. Just a crunching riff and someone going 'waaaaaaah' for a couple of minutes. The closest thing the stripes do to album filler I suppose.
Pixies - I've Been Tired: Black Francis telling a story about shocking a wooly hippie type by expressing a fear of sexually transmitted disease from prostitutes. And then Screaming 'I've been tired' a few times. One of the reasons why 'Come on Pilgrim' is ace.
Laeto - Bad Taste Party: Fuck off Laeto, you sound like Guns N Roses, only dull.
I Am Kloot - Morning Rain: One of the Wirral's best kept sectrets, the Kloot were originally bandied about with the 'New Acoustic Movement', despite being a million miles away from the twee stoners who embodied that 'scene'. God knows what most of these lyrics are about, but they sound great, and with fantastic melodies. One of my favourite albums to put on to sing along to in the kitchen.
Buck 65 - Square Three: One quarter of Buck's incredible 'Square' album, this is seventeen minutes of superb hip-hop. This sounds like no other artist you care to think of. His unique take on the world - old fashioned, romantic and quite frankly bizzare - is rapped eloquently over some equally unique beats. I will be sure to post a more detalied rant about how great his music is in the future. This square contains 'Stella', a song about the tragic life of an ordinary girl, which will fail to touch only the most barren of souls.
Minotaur Shock - Local Violin Shop: Yay! Some genius Bristolian electronica, with my two favourite instruments: drums and glockenspiel (apparently played by some sort of mentalist). Also, Minotaur Shock is a cool name, and the tune doesn't have any violins in it. Yeehaa.
Fog - Pneumonia (Coldcut Remix): Plinky-plonky-plink go some violins (being plucked) thumpy-doofy-thump go some drums while some bloke sings something that's more depressing than the music suggests. Has the singular ability to make me sing the line that goes 'I am a venetian blind' for days without knowing why.
The Delgados - I Fought the Angels: The opener from their stunning new album 'Universal Audio'. Shows the band's previous LP 'Hate' up as the self-indulgent misery-fest that it was. One of those songs that restore your faith in music.
Hexstatic - Auto: It's a pretty cool idea - sample some automotive type sounds and craft them into a track. Bit dull in practice though.
Sage Francis - Crack Pipes: Another of the great avant-garde hip-hoppers on the Anticon records label. It's not exactly a party tune, what with it being about addiction and all, but it manages to do the 'hip-hop with a heart' thing witout condescending. I will certainly be cheking out more of his stuff in the future.
The Rapture - Olio: I don't like The Cure. I don't like house music. This sounds like The Cure doing house music. I love it.
At the Drive-In - Rolodex Propaganda: AtD-I's 'Relationship of Command' showed that it was possible to have a major label deal and a big-name producer and still make hardcore punk that you could use to sandblast buildings with. Should have been as big as Nirvana if they hadn't imploded under the pressure. Right before I was supposed to see them in concert too, the buggers.
PJ Harvey - This Mess We're In: Yay, two of the best voices in modern music (Peej herself and Thom Yorke) singing a beautifully melancholy song about a complicated break-up. In New York to make it more romantic.
Jim O'Rourke - Mentalist record producer makes grand statement of a record. The cover has a picture of Jim's head on a baby being fellated by a toy rabit. The album's alrght but this tune is a bit crap.
Snow Parol - Run: You've probably heard The 'Patrol's breakthrough single. It's ace and proves why they deserve to sell a squillion records.
Actually, I cant be arsed to to a whole 20, as its time to go to another (!) bouldering competition. It's all a bit indie-boy and predicatable I know (I do listen to pop music and stuff as well, honest) but hey, why should I apologise for my music taste anyway?
Monday, November 01, 2004
A Quick Jog in Wales.
I can only see for 5 metres in every direction. I've just dragged myself and a rucksack up severall hundres metres of damp, grassy slope. We're searching for the next checkpoint, but I can hardly see Gaz, let alone a 2ft tall metal stand. "It's all gone tits up cos of t'weather" we joke, echoing yesterday's parking attendant. The sound of chatting voices piercing the fog, and signalling the nearby checkpoint is welcomed with unbridalled glee.
Hours earlier Gaz and I were stood at the startline of the KIMM, our rucksacks laden with our supplies for the race and our guts full of anticipation. Neither of us were aware of what lay ahead, other than fifty kilometres, a few hills and lots and lots of mud. We'd entered almost on a whim, and had been unexpectedly moved from the 'C' class (well within my abilities) to the 'B' class (at the stretch of my abilities). The months of nerves, anticiaption and even some training had led to this point - it was time to see what we were capable of.
Hahaaaaaa! Whooooooo! I'm barrelling down the valley, only just in control of my legs. The other competitors can see on our faces that these moments are the very reason we're in this event and gladly let us pass. The fog has started to clear, revealing the bleak rolling vistas of the Brecon Beacons. What the? ***CRUNCH*** A moments lack of concentration and I'm over on my knee. "It hurt a bit but it's OK" I reassure Gaz as we press on, convinced that the pain will pass.
In the evening, as I nestled in my sleeping bag I was wondering what on earth motivated me to actually see this event through. Surely only a burning desire to empathise with World War One veterans or a deep-seated mental illness could make you actually pay for the privellage of doing this. My deeply unsatisfying dinner of couscous with sewage-flavoured soup was battling away with several hundred grams of marzipan in my stomach. I was sure my feet would never be warm or dry again.
This is supposed to be the easy track at the beginning, but it appears we're destined to start day two trudging through what appears to be cow slurry. Passing the first checkpoint we start uphill and I can feel stabbing in my left knee. We're going to have to take it easy today to stand a chance of finishing without further injury.
On an event such as this, the course is vaguely pre-described but it's up to the competitors to find the best route between checkpoints. Experienced runners will choose a route that balances good terrain with short distance, whereas the uninitiated (like myself and Gaz) will choose a route almost entirely at random and spend much time hurdling heather tufts or yomping up unnecessary hills. There are times when we were entirely at the organisers' mercy. The organisers are clearly bastards. Well, they're fond of the odd river crossing at any rate.
It's OK. I'm running now, and after the inital pain I'm starting to feel good. We can make some good time along this ground. The big hill climb of the day is out of the way and the rest of the course looks pretty fast. We won't be making the same navigational mistakes we made yesterday either. Suddenly my vision is white as agony shoots through my knee. I nearly vomit with pain as Gaz helps me to my feet. "Are you OK to go on?" he asks. It takes all my willpower to dismiss the chance to quit and start limping towards the next checkpoint.
Now, I'm known to use some of the more colourful phrases in the English language from time-to-time, but my usual foul language is nothing compared to the torrent of filth running through my head every time my foot came down. The final ascent of the day passed in a haze of expletives and ibuprofen. I knew salvation lay beyond the top of the hill.
Endorphins. They come and go in waves, with spikes of agony in between. Just concentrate on not falling again. The world constists only of the track down to the finish, which flies beneath me faster than I can register. The grimace on my face is part pain and part elation as we storm past the cautious and the limping. Gaz keeps shouting me on. I know we're nearly there. The yellow 'Finish' marker looks more welcoming than any bed I've seen. We cross the line in total elation. We've done it.
So today I'm sitting here with blisters on my feet, sores on my back and a knee that barely bends. I finally arrived home at 2.30 this morning after a minibus journey that cannot be described without usin the words 'epic' and 'numbness'. My bedroom is strewn with muddy, fetid clothing. And I'm already looking forward to doing it next year.
Hours earlier Gaz and I were stood at the startline of the KIMM, our rucksacks laden with our supplies for the race and our guts full of anticipation. Neither of us were aware of what lay ahead, other than fifty kilometres, a few hills and lots and lots of mud. We'd entered almost on a whim, and had been unexpectedly moved from the 'C' class (well within my abilities) to the 'B' class (at the stretch of my abilities). The months of nerves, anticiaption and even some training had led to this point - it was time to see what we were capable of.
Hahaaaaaa! Whooooooo! I'm barrelling down the valley, only just in control of my legs. The other competitors can see on our faces that these moments are the very reason we're in this event and gladly let us pass. The fog has started to clear, revealing the bleak rolling vistas of the Brecon Beacons. What the? ***CRUNCH*** A moments lack of concentration and I'm over on my knee. "It hurt a bit but it's OK" I reassure Gaz as we press on, convinced that the pain will pass.
In the evening, as I nestled in my sleeping bag I was wondering what on earth motivated me to actually see this event through. Surely only a burning desire to empathise with World War One veterans or a deep-seated mental illness could make you actually pay for the privellage of doing this. My deeply unsatisfying dinner of couscous with sewage-flavoured soup was battling away with several hundred grams of marzipan in my stomach. I was sure my feet would never be warm or dry again.
This is supposed to be the easy track at the beginning, but it appears we're destined to start day two trudging through what appears to be cow slurry. Passing the first checkpoint we start uphill and I can feel stabbing in my left knee. We're going to have to take it easy today to stand a chance of finishing without further injury.
On an event such as this, the course is vaguely pre-described but it's up to the competitors to find the best route between checkpoints. Experienced runners will choose a route that balances good terrain with short distance, whereas the uninitiated (like myself and Gaz) will choose a route almost entirely at random and spend much time hurdling heather tufts or yomping up unnecessary hills. There are times when we were entirely at the organisers' mercy. The organisers are clearly bastards. Well, they're fond of the odd river crossing at any rate.
It's OK. I'm running now, and after the inital pain I'm starting to feel good. We can make some good time along this ground. The big hill climb of the day is out of the way and the rest of the course looks pretty fast. We won't be making the same navigational mistakes we made yesterday either. Suddenly my vision is white as agony shoots through my knee. I nearly vomit with pain as Gaz helps me to my feet. "Are you OK to go on?" he asks. It takes all my willpower to dismiss the chance to quit and start limping towards the next checkpoint.
Now, I'm known to use some of the more colourful phrases in the English language from time-to-time, but my usual foul language is nothing compared to the torrent of filth running through my head every time my foot came down. The final ascent of the day passed in a haze of expletives and ibuprofen. I knew salvation lay beyond the top of the hill.
Endorphins. They come and go in waves, with spikes of agony in between. Just concentrate on not falling again. The world constists only of the track down to the finish, which flies beneath me faster than I can register. The grimace on my face is part pain and part elation as we storm past the cautious and the limping. Gaz keeps shouting me on. I know we're nearly there. The yellow 'Finish' marker looks more welcoming than any bed I've seen. We cross the line in total elation. We've done it.
So today I'm sitting here with blisters on my feet, sores on my back and a knee that barely bends. I finally arrived home at 2.30 this morning after a minibus journey that cannot be described without usin the words 'epic' and 'numbness'. My bedroom is strewn with muddy, fetid clothing. And I'm already looking forward to doing it next year.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
John Peel 1939-2004
What can I say about the man, except to echo what's already been said?
So many memories of his Radio 1 show, like when I was working as a night cleaner in a food-packing factory listening to peelie on a radio that I had to smuggle in underneath my overalls. The best breakfast show I've ever heard. Or listening to his show with my housemates and writing the amusing quotes on our 'Wall of Peel'.
Night after night he brought the nation the most incredible mix of music ever broadcast. I remember the first time I listened to the show in 1997, hearing Mogwai in session, just as they were starting to take off. My days of blinkeredly listening to awful grunge and heavy metal were over, and a whole vista of sounds opened up to me. Music became an obsession, and now there's barely a waking moment that I'm not listening to music in some way.
Lazy Saturday mornings, 'Home Truths' on in the background whilst doing the crossword. An incredible social documentary lasting over years, and presented with so much warmth and hoesty as to feel like a weekly family update from a well-loved uncle.
Cheers Mr Peel. You genuinely made the world a better place.
And can I have some f the records you left behind please?
Saturday, October 16, 2004
All quiet...
Gosh, it's been a long time since I did any blogging. Is it because I've been too busy? Well, I should have been, but to be honest, I've spent the last couple of weeks just dicking about.
So anyway, I came into University today so I could use the computer to prepare for a job interview. It struck me how many cars are in the car park. I mean, the weather's a bit crap this weekend BUT IT'S SATURDAY FOR FUCK'S SAKE. Don't any of these people have lives? Shouldn't they be at home doing DIY, visiting their parents, being with their kids, hanging out with friends or just, I dunno shopping for socks? I can almost hear you calling me a hypocrite - 'Aren't you blogging from your computer at work ON A SATURDAY?' Well, yes I am, but the reason I'm here is because I need to get out of this crazy WORK=LIFE culture as soon as possible, and for that I need a job. The reason I mention it is the realisation that soon I will no longer be part of this makes me very happy indeed.
Oh, and this morning I found out that my entry to the KIMM has been accepted. So there's no backing out from it now. I'm both very excited and utterly terrified. Oh, and I bought a pair of Ron Hills for the event too. Feel free, nay obliged, to mock me in a highly sustained manner if you ever see me wearing them.
I'd also like to say that the Alien Rock bouldering comp was ace (and I did far better than anticipated). And the new Delgados album is excellent in a million different ways. And if you haven't taken my previous advice and started listening to Explosions in the Sky, then you are a fool and your life will never be complete.
So anyway, I came into University today so I could use the computer to prepare for a job interview. It struck me how many cars are in the car park. I mean, the weather's a bit crap this weekend BUT IT'S SATURDAY FOR FUCK'S SAKE. Don't any of these people have lives? Shouldn't they be at home doing DIY, visiting their parents, being with their kids, hanging out with friends or just, I dunno shopping for socks? I can almost hear you calling me a hypocrite - 'Aren't you blogging from your computer at work ON A SATURDAY?' Well, yes I am, but the reason I'm here is because I need to get out of this crazy WORK=LIFE culture as soon as possible, and for that I need a job. The reason I mention it is the realisation that soon I will no longer be part of this makes me very happy indeed.
Oh, and this morning I found out that my entry to the KIMM has been accepted. So there's no backing out from it now. I'm both very excited and utterly terrified. Oh, and I bought a pair of Ron Hills for the event too. Feel free, nay obliged, to mock me in a highly sustained manner if you ever see me wearing them.
I'd also like to say that the Alien Rock bouldering comp was ace (and I did far better than anticipated). And the new Delgados album is excellent in a million different ways. And if you haven't taken my previous advice and started listening to Explosions in the Sky, then you are a fool and your life will never be complete.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Things I have thought about today
In no particular order:
Just in case you were wondering.
- How long the gaffa tape holding my shoes together will last.
- Why don't barbeque falour crisps taste of metal and charcoal?
- The noise the automatic door closers make in our flat.
- Whether or not I will end up drunk tonight.
- SSH secure shell servers.
- Climbing, specifically what I will do on Sunday if it rains.
- Hormonally-motivated thoughts (which are none of your business thank you very much).
- I want the new Delgados album - am I too poor to buy it (answer is yes, but that may not stop me).
- How some friends have done in their exams.
- Lunch.
- Dinner.
- Snacks.
- How to fix the broken hoover.
- What I will be doing in 2 months time.
- Earth, Wind & Fire
- SHOUTING IN CAPSLOCK IS A WEAPON OF FEAR
- Going to Spain for New Year's celebrations.
- How to write a Masters Thesis.
- I hate shaving.
- I am poor.
Just in case you were wondering.
Friday, September 24, 2004
Boozohol Ate My Brain
I'll say it now just to get it out of the way - "I am never going to drink again".
Yet again I have been participating in the ritual of drinking onesself into a stupor, dancing to awful music in a crap nightclub (although I do love scrubway, it is very crap indeed) and then regretting it the next day. Why on earth do we poison ourselves in the name of fun? And who on earth decided to do tequila?
Having said which, I'm pretty sure last night wouldn't have been fun if I was sober. And there's no way I would have danced with all those girls like that either.
So it looks like I'll be doing it all over again Saturday night in the Clachaig.
God I'm stupid.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Friday, September 17, 2004
Goodbye Academia
Well, it's been all quiet on the weblog front of late, primarily because I've been making big life decisions and haven't had the mental energy to post.
I've decided to quit my PhD and cash in the work I've done so far for an MSc. The next step is then to get a job for a few years to save some money to pay for a teacher training to become your worst nightmare - an enthusiastic chemistry teacher!
I'm a bit terrified of the real world, but I spose I've got to face up to it sometime so here goes. Wish me luck!
Oh, I went Ice Climbing at the indoor ice wall in Kinlochleven the other week too, which was ace. Heartily recommended.
I've decided to quit my PhD and cash in the work I've done so far for an MSc. The next step is then to get a job for a few years to save some money to pay for a teacher training to become your worst nightmare - an enthusiastic chemistry teacher!
I'm a bit terrified of the real world, but I spose I've got to face up to it sometime so here goes. Wish me luck!
Oh, I went Ice Climbing at the indoor ice wall in Kinlochleven the other week too, which was ace. Heartily recommended.
Friday, September 10, 2004
20 miliseconds into the future
Yesterday I took part in some psychological research to help with someone's PhD (and to earn myself an easy tenner).
It involved wearing what looked like a swimming cap with lots fo wires coming out of the top to measure the conductivity across my brain. Also, in order for the electrodes to work, a substance that looked remarkably like semen was injected into them, which not only added to the general discomfort of the headwear, but made me look like I'd been involved in some sort of foul porn film afterwards.
The idea was to measure brain activity whilst looking at pictures of faces and deciding which ones looked happy or neutral. I don't know how many I got right, but there was a significant amount of brain activity approx 20miliseconds before the computer showed any pictures. Thus I can conclude that I am psychic.
Ommmm.
Now if only I could see further into the future than 20ms I might have predicted how bad that gin was going to make me feel last night.
It involved wearing what looked like a swimming cap with lots fo wires coming out of the top to measure the conductivity across my brain. Also, in order for the electrodes to work, a substance that looked remarkably like semen was injected into them, which not only added to the general discomfort of the headwear, but made me look like I'd been involved in some sort of foul porn film afterwards.
The idea was to measure brain activity whilst looking at pictures of faces and deciding which ones looked happy or neutral. I don't know how many I got right, but there was a significant amount of brain activity approx 20miliseconds before the computer showed any pictures. Thus I can conclude that I am psychic.
Ommmm.
Now if only I could see further into the future than 20ms I might have predicted how bad that gin was going to make me feel last night.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
A Minute's Excessive Noise
Last night I heard that Imperial Music in Bristol had closed down.
During my years at university in Bristol, this shop was almost the sole source of all of my music. Not only was the selection of music they had there incredible, but the staff were friendly and obviously cared very much about making their customers happy. They even put little stickers on the CD cases giving a little review of what was inside (the reviews were always spot on).
It was much more than just a record shop to me and I shall miss it dearly.
I suggest that if you feel the same way you mourn its passing by turning up your stereo and staging a minute's excessive noise.
During my years at university in Bristol, this shop was almost the sole source of all of my music. Not only was the selection of music they had there incredible, but the staff were friendly and obviously cared very much about making their customers happy. They even put little stickers on the CD cases giving a little review of what was inside (the reviews were always spot on).
It was much more than just a record shop to me and I shall miss it dearly.
I suggest that if you feel the same way you mourn its passing by turning up your stereo and staging a minute's excessive noise.
Monday, September 06, 2004
Karma
What a fantastic Sunday!
I hadn't been mountain biking since, oooh, 1998 so I was pretty excited by the prospect of getting on a fat-tyred velocipede and thrashing my way around the purpose-built trails of Glen Tress. I was a bit worried that I'd be quite rusty, but as soon as I got on the bike I realised that it's one of those things you don't forget. Just like... oh you know the proverb. (See how I insert a bad pun there without actually saying it - sometimes I marvel at my own subtlety).
So about half an hour later I find myself pumping uphill with my legs apparently full of liquid mercury and a heart rate faster than a hummingbird's. Who's stupid idea was this anyway? Er, mine I think. Maybe I was drunk or something. Surely I'd remembered mountain biking to be actual fun, but this was just torture.
Just as I was convinced that the last of my bodily moisture was about to be sweat away, I turned the corner onto a narrow track and then zwooosh. All the previous torture was forgotten as I plummeted down the twisty singletrack, every neuron and muscle working together to avoid each rock, lean into each berm and negotiate each drop-off. There isnt even time to be scared by the amount of skin you might lose if it all goes wrong as you hurtle through the trees. And then before you know it you're spat out the other side, utterly desperate for another adrenaline fix (which requires more leg-destroying uphills).
It's a bit lile sledging, only you can still feel your toes afterwards and it isn't cheating to use your brakes. Apparently I look like a grin on a bike when I'm riding.
To top the rest of the day off a whole bunch of us climbed up onto the roof of our flat last night to watch the Edinburgh Festival Fireworks. It was one of those dreich nights that gives the sky a malicious atmosphere so the firework display looked like tropical storm over the city. Even in the sopping drizzle you couldn't fail to be mystified.
I am however, beginning to think that the Buddhists have a point with that Karma stuff though because in contrast today has just been shite.
I hadn't been mountain biking since, oooh, 1998 so I was pretty excited by the prospect of getting on a fat-tyred velocipede and thrashing my way around the purpose-built trails of Glen Tress. I was a bit worried that I'd be quite rusty, but as soon as I got on the bike I realised that it's one of those things you don't forget. Just like... oh you know the proverb. (See how I insert a bad pun there without actually saying it - sometimes I marvel at my own subtlety).
So about half an hour later I find myself pumping uphill with my legs apparently full of liquid mercury and a heart rate faster than a hummingbird's. Who's stupid idea was this anyway? Er, mine I think. Maybe I was drunk or something. Surely I'd remembered mountain biking to be actual fun, but this was just torture.
Just as I was convinced that the last of my bodily moisture was about to be sweat away, I turned the corner onto a narrow track and then zwooosh. All the previous torture was forgotten as I plummeted down the twisty singletrack, every neuron and muscle working together to avoid each rock, lean into each berm and negotiate each drop-off. There isnt even time to be scared by the amount of skin you might lose if it all goes wrong as you hurtle through the trees. And then before you know it you're spat out the other side, utterly desperate for another adrenaline fix (which requires more leg-destroying uphills).
It's a bit lile sledging, only you can still feel your toes afterwards and it isn't cheating to use your brakes. Apparently I look like a grin on a bike when I'm riding.
To top the rest of the day off a whole bunch of us climbed up onto the roof of our flat last night to watch the Edinburgh Festival Fireworks. It was one of those dreich nights that gives the sky a malicious atmosphere so the firework display looked like tropical storm over the city. Even in the sopping drizzle you couldn't fail to be mystified.
I am however, beginning to think that the Buddhists have a point with that Karma stuff though because in contrast today has just been shite.
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Customer Service
So hte other day I bought an album on a whim from Avalanche records. I'd heard of the band before and asked one of the staff if he thought it was any good. He said they were like the scottish Foo Fighters, so I thought ace, I'll give that a try.
Except it was pish. More like the Scottish Def Leppard than Foo Fighters.
So I took it back:
"What's your reason for returning it?"
"It's rubbish"
"We only do returns on damaged or faulty goods...
...But I agree, it is rubbish, I'll swap it. Have a free badge too."
I will certainly be shopping there again.
Except it was pish. More like the Scottish Def Leppard than Foo Fighters.
So I took it back:
"What's your reason for returning it?"
"It's rubbish"
"We only do returns on damaged or faulty goods...
...But I agree, it is rubbish, I'll swap it. Have a free badge too."
I will certainly be shopping there again.
Friday, September 03, 2004
Rhythm is Important
I was just walking along last night (without my walkman, which is rare!) and I noticed that there was a hollow sound when my feet landed on the pavement. I took this to mean that the paving stones were loose and the sound was them moving.
As I took more steps I realised that I was actually walking in perfect time with the Ladyboys of Bangkok playing on the meadows. Maybe I would have made a good drummer after all, with timing like that.
As I took more steps I realised that I was actually walking in perfect time with the Ladyboys of Bangkok playing on the meadows. Maybe I would have made a good drummer after all, with timing like that.
Thursday, September 02, 2004
Go East
Well, I'm back from Budapest. I sort of planned writing some sort of travelogue type thing about the whole experience, but to be honest I can't be arsed and seeing as I went there for a conference it will be about as interesting as listening to Embrace.
A week of intensive science, sightseeing, schmoozing and meat-eating have left me pretty wiped-out. I was staying in a very posh hotel, with a thermal spa and such things, which was nice, although I have discovered that I sleep badly and have weird dreams in hotels regardless of how posh they are. I am also suspicious that there is a conspiracy of carpenters who, regardless of which country I'm in, wait until I REALLY need some sleep before they start carpenting OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM WINDOW AT 6.30 IN THE MORNING. I wish a pox upon them and hope their stupid wooden creations catch fire, burning their faces off in the process.
Having said which, I met some ace people, ate some nice goulash and gazed slack-jawed at the myriad of attractive Eastern European girls who seem to just walk around looking gorgeous with no concern for my attention span whatsoever.
Another reason why there is no detail in my Hungary story is the fact that when the beer wasnt cheap, it was free. Large chunks of time have been replaced in my memory with the BBC test card and some nice elevator music. Occasionally a soft voice fades in to mention something about technical difficulties.
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Budapest
Not only is it the name of a fine song by The Reindeer Section, but it is also the capital of Hungary and the venue for the conference that I'm attending this week. Hurrah.
This means that next week I'll doubtlessly post something on here to gloat about how nice it is there. And it wil also undoubteldy come across more as Bill Bailey than Bill Bryson.
This means that next week I'll doubtlessly post something on here to gloat about how nice it is there. And it wil also undoubteldy come across more as Bill Bailey than Bill Bryson.
Sunday, August 22, 2004
A Good Weekend
The weekend actually started quite badly, with a disobedient bike spitting me off at high speed resulting in an involuntary skin sacrifice to the Gods of Mayfield Road.
Still, things improved dramatically what with there being some rather scorchio weather round these parts, giving that excellent carefree summer weekend vibe that makes you feel like eating salad and generally larking about. Cue a barbeque on the meadows with lots of friends, followed by a game of rounders and a few rides in the funfair. We even managed to get an outdoor table in one of Edinburgh's few beer gardens to finish the night off.
Today was a trip to Aberdour for some sea-cliff climbing. A big smiley sun making the view across the Forth even more spectacular and general good cheer all round. Plus I helped a friend get over her fear of lead climbing, which I think gave us both a nice warm sense of achievement.
Nothing ground-breakingly exciting there, but just stress-free and totally enjoyable. The kind of weekend that makes it easier to put up with crap midweeks, ad what more could you ask for?
Still, things improved dramatically what with there being some rather scorchio weather round these parts, giving that excellent carefree summer weekend vibe that makes you feel like eating salad and generally larking about. Cue a barbeque on the meadows with lots of friends, followed by a game of rounders and a few rides in the funfair. We even managed to get an outdoor table in one of Edinburgh's few beer gardens to finish the night off.
Today was a trip to Aberdour for some sea-cliff climbing. A big smiley sun making the view across the Forth even more spectacular and general good cheer all round. Plus I helped a friend get over her fear of lead climbing, which I think gave us both a nice warm sense of achievement.
Nothing ground-breakingly exciting there, but just stress-free and totally enjoyable. The kind of weekend that makes it easier to put up with crap midweeks, ad what more could you ask for?
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Things to do in Edinburgh When You're Dizzy.
There are things that many of us take for granted which become highly treasured when they are temporarily taken away.
For me one of these things, as I discovered last week, is my sense of balance. A rather unfriendly virus decided to set up camp in my inner ear, thus depriving me of my already somewhat ropey balance. Needless to say, there isn't much you can do when you have this affliction, mainly because most things involve moving your head too much.
Here are some handy suggestions based on my experience of the past week:
For me one of these things, as I discovered last week, is my sense of balance. A rather unfriendly virus decided to set up camp in my inner ear, thus depriving me of my already somewhat ropey balance. Needless to say, there isn't much you can do when you have this affliction, mainly because most things involve moving your head too much.
Here are some handy suggestions based on my experience of the past week:
- Watch DVDs - Obvious, really. Try to go for sets that comprise a whole TV series as this tends to kill much more time and you can also break it into chunks nicely. I recommend Family Guy (almost as good as the Simpsons) and The Day Today (as long as you never want to be able to watch the news with a straight face again).
- Avoid daytime TV - I have come to the conclusion that there are only about five TV executives in the UK at the moment. And they are all very very drunk.
- Learn about sport - thanks to the BBC's marvellous olympic coverage I now understand the points scoring of judo and badminton, and have more knowlege of olympic swimming than I could ever desire.
- Have Friends Round - I think I would have gone insane if it weren't for ther steady stream of mates coming to make me cups of tea and give me sympathy (and run around after me in general). They are spendid people one and all.
- Sleep - I have seized the opportunity to do some training for the 2008 olympics, where sleeping will be introduced as an olympic sport. I think I stand a good medal chance.
- Listen to lots of music, obviously - No different to any other time, really, but here's a few of the albums I've re-discovered in the past week:
- Ben Folds Five - Ben Folds Five I realised whilst listening to this that I'm the only Ben Folds fan I know that hasn't at some point in their life had piano lessons. Nevertheless, this is a fantastic collection of clever indie pop, and it makes me want to play 'air piano'.
- Snow Patrol - When It's All Over We Still Have To Clear Up Now that they've sold a squillion copies of their new album Final Straw I can only hope that more people discover this, their second and best album. Although slightly less polished than its sucessor, When It's... has a warmth and sincerity that hasnt been matched by their newer stuff.
- The Cinematic Orchestra - Man With The Movie Camera Unlike many other artists of their ilk, the cinematics weren't content with making soundtracks to imaginary movies so they found some Russian cinema 'Classic' to make tunes for. Mostly consisting of stripped down versions of the stuff on 'Every Day' it has an excellent live feel to it. And not too 'Jazz Club - Nice' either.
- Buck 65 - Talkin' Honky Blues Possibly the worlds least conventional hip-hop artist, Buck eschews the usual violence, mysogeny and general language of rap to produce something far more refreshing. There are stories ranging from madcap road journeys to the life of a shoe shine, all underpinned with some superb beats crafted from both samples and proper instruments. Everyone should be forced to listen to this, ESPECIALLY if they think hip-hop is rubbish.
- Explosions In The Sky - The Earth Is Not A Cold, Dead Place There's no point in going on about this album. It's quite simply beautiful, and if you don't agree with me then you have no soul.
- Fall Over - The effect of using a lift when you have vertigo can be quite interesting. My thanks go the the Edinburgh Uni Health Service for scraping my shivering sweaty body off the floor of the lift and treating me nicely until my taxi came.
- Get Better - Possibly the most fun thing I've done is recover. The ability to walk about and do stuff after a week of inactivity makes me feel invincible. Hooray for that.
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