June 2003 Archives
It isn't at all late, but I really am finished. This week has been a flurry of activity at work, which while productive, has tended to leave me in a bit of a daze at the end of each and every day. I put in the time for exercise because it is one of the few things that keeps my head screwed on when my drive starts to falter. The rest, pfft. Times like these make me ever more grateful for loved ones and friends too, though I wish that I could feel as if I were paying each group as much attention as they deserve.
Mister Howie, the answer to your question is yes... probably - see, have more fun!
Well, time for some rest; the cycle perpetuates itself come the morning. One last listen to Missy Elliott's "4 my People" - my tastes are eclectic, that's for sure, but this track will always rank up there; sass, attitude, style. Sweet Dreams people.
I found this test through him. I've been deemed a bit of a left-hemisphere thinker. I understand that this is more typical of women than it is of men. Ah well, many of the most brilliant minds I know are female, so this shouldn't be of particular concern to me. I'll try to swagger more when I walk.
Auditory : 58%
Visual : 41%
Left : 62%
Right : 37%
Today, someone asked me if I'd consider it for real, I said "[I'm slightly demented and somewhat into self-inflicted suffering, in a fashion not unlike that of my leather wearing, crop wielding, sado-masochistically inclined, poofy brethren] Yes" - which, in my books, is tantamount to a commitment. Scary. The Flora London Marathon. Registering for it looks to be relatively straightforward, even for a braindead lowlife, so I should fare just fine, though getting a place is apparently another matter entirely.
At 26.2 miles, or 44.3 kilometres, a marathon is 3.7 times the distance I ordinarily aim to run on each of my three outings per week. That's terrifying at face value, but the datasheets claim that a successful entrant should be able to comfortably cover 15 miles in one shot in the month preceding the marathon. If I can already do 7 miles a couple of times a week and find that relatively easy, training toward loftier heights should be entirely achievable with time and effort. Anyone done this before? It seems a little loopy, I suppose, but I really think it'd be something worth dedicating some sweat to. Crazy I are.
Now there's an image. One tends to forget how good it feels to feel good until one comes down with the lurgy; I've had a mild cold since Tuesday, and I think it reached its peak yesterday, more irritating than anything else... low temperature, kill-me-already itchiness, general drooling and a persistent headache. They say that things are on the way out when you produce volumes of clear mucilage. Well, I've been quite dainty on that front, all things considered, but hopefully it'll be gone tomorrow. I have to go into work both days of the weekend, so it would be nice to feel at least a little normal. Plus, a little Sunday morning gym-time would probably bring the energy levels back up, but colds and exercise do not go hand in hand; messiness aside, there's a marked increase in risk of damage to the heart muscle during strenuous exercise when associated with colds or flu. This is cited as one possible cause of sudden death syndrome in young people. Mmm.
It's another beautiful day here; I think I'm starting to take them for granted. The tourists must be really confused.
Anyhow, I digress; I have managed to avoid eating corporate fast-food for over eight months now, a conscious decision based upon trivial personal politics and a desire to eat more healthily. For this reason alone, I might have missed out on the following gem - cheers, Spence - which is at once both quaintly amusing and somewhat disconcerting (click to enlarge):
Perhaps for the same reason that some anti-republicans avoid eating at Chili's - forget that they donate to the party, their food is bland enough to be avoided on merit alone - those who aren't overly keen on funding conservative biblebashers might do well to avoid In-&-Out Burger. Though with a dubious name like that, how could they be anything but liberal?
Clearly hell on earth, Zakopane is situated in the Nowy Sacz Voivodship, at the feet of the Tatra Mountains, Poland. I'm taking a little time away during the month of July to look after youngsters; teaching English and dispensing activities at a camp, hopefully in the middle of nowhere, sounds like a good working holiday to me. As long as there's food, I'll be fine, come bug, bear, bugbear (there's some odd hybrid snafu going on here) or rabid raccoon. These are, of course, the western Carpathians, so I really hope I can do some climbing... it's my favourite outdoor activity (okay, contender with running and rowing), but I'm guessing that there won't be time for that. Alas.
They say travel broadens the mind; but you must have the mind - GK Chesterton 1874-1936
life is a horizontal fall
Yes indeed, Wimbledon is upon us once again, and once again, my lovely village home will be ransacked by hordes of tourists and campers (of the outdoor type, c'mon people) from June 23 through to July 6. But it is a small price to pay for such a great event, choc full of atmosphere and alive with positive energy. This is perhaps the second year in a decade during which I will be away from all the action during the week, what with University, but I'll be sure to make it down for a weekend.
My home is only a few hundred yards from the courts and, in fact, used to afford a partial view into the upper terraces of one of the lesser stands. It's so close, again, that when you hear the crowds roar on the television and then hit mute, you can still hear the crowds roar, even through closed windows. It's a fervor that is entirely palpable. I couldn't help but enjoy it even if I didn't like the game. Just wish I could play it; I'm a badminton man.
The bookies are having a field day. Good luck Lleyton.
My sense of humour, on the whole, is pretty dry, but there are times when the finest toilet-humour really hits me - or at least, leaves me spraying cereal across my computer screen and down my chest. Lovely. Enjoy the cyber; I'm so easy to please! via SE
Today was seminar day at the Institute where I work; as a ph.d. student, one is expected to present ones research, accomplishments, future plans and so on to all and sundry. It can be quite intense on the nerves, but it's out of the way now. I earned a distinction of sorts - in the form of a glass plaque engraved with our coat of arms and the title of the prize - but receiving it didn't feel good. I felt kind of wretched, in a fashion, guilty even; I simply don't like being singled out like that. It makes me feel like a con; I worked no harder than anyone else, certainly not enough to merit an accolade in any form. It's somewhat trivial a thing to be brought down by, perhaps even a little odd, and while I may feel different tomorrow, I feel pretty lousy about it right now... of course I'm grateful... stress makes us all a little funny; I am going to sleep very, very well tonight.
Loathe to repeat people, but Horizon brings word from oh-Canada with especially cheering news on the lawful recognition of same-sex marriage; a high-court order has seen to the legalisation of such unions in the province of Ontario, effective immediately. It doesn't surprise me really; I've only ever been to Vancouver, which is hardly representative of the country (though I must say, it is a really lovely city with great food, and a most friendly populace), but most of the Canadians I've ever met have had relatively chill attitudes and a positive outlook on the Universe in general. That it should not have taken place in the UK yet, well, we're certainly liberal, and far more so than the US seems to consider itself as being, but we have a distance to go - the rest of the country is not London - lest my fellow cityfolk forget! It's more generational than anything else. Babysteps, right? Pfff.
I bought some new running shoes on Saturday, and was finally able to put their pristine whiteness to the test last night. Somewhere under seven miles, I noticed two things - i) new shoes make all the difference, especially when the old ones are nearly two years past their best ii) no matter how comfortable new shoes are, you'll always risk blistering. Stopped just in time, methinks, as my feet are fine this morning. Have I mentioned that running is the best thing in the Universe besides rowing? Oooh, I haven't tried Kayaking yet, as I was reminded last night whilst running (the River Cam is very well used for recreation). Oh, iii) miracles can happen, and new shoes that are whiter than an Englishman's legs in Winter can escape mud, puddles and general grime, no matter how rustic the route. Next time, we'll try it in Prada.
fast. approaches. gaaaah! Actually, I'm totally calm, but apparently that's not a good thing. Anyhow, no time to write anything worthwhile, so I'll dispense a little of someone elses quick and sophisticated humour: go to google, type or paste in "french military victories", and press "I'm Feeling Lucky"
Update: Vagaries of the net... as David points out, the link has now been removed, so what you get instead is a rather tasteless, weak minded and ill-informed page of anti-islamic propaganda. Please don't bother.
UPDATE 2 - it's back to normal. Easy solution... if you see a monkey, it didn't work!
While taking a break from work, I came across a post cataloguing some linguistic snafus arising from the (unintentionally) inappropriate usage of particular words - I was very amused.
It's a pleasant reminder of how I once tried to teach a friend a few phrases in Bahasa. Somehow, words jumped sentences, and when he tried to put it to use in front of someone else, he announced - with some trepidation - that he wanted to eat my mother. I'm so proud.
I know from experience that it isn't easy to deal with depression. Though I feel happy and fulfilled in my life, there are times when I inexplicably plunge into terrifying moments of tremendous upset. It crushes me. I know that I have suffered from depression, not, perhaps, as some very dear friends have, and while it is rare, what I feel is nevertheless real, intense, and it scares me. Yet it can never be rationalised. Eventually it subsides, and even then I can never pinpoint what caused it. And every time, I am grateful for not having done something to hurt myself. We're complex beings; if you don't know what it is that makes you feel this way, just realise that it is the same for many, many people. It's not unusual. Just promise yourself that you will come through it, each and every time. Better to endure than to disappear.
My dearest friend, if you don't mind I'd like to join you by your side Where we can gaze into the stars and sit together, now and forever For it is plain as anyone can see We're simply meant to be
Elfman has an ear for beauty. Be happy, Sue, stranger or friend, we're all alike underneath our skins.
... and a shitload of work, but the sky is the palest of blues; wisps of gossamer cloud drift here and there, doing little else other than accentuate the softness of the evening light; patches of orange dance lazily with silhouetted leaves on the wall opposite my desk. Not for long; it will be dark soon, but it will have been another beautiful day amongst many. Whilst New York sits in a great big puddle of a late Spring and Early Summer, we, the reputed land of mist, fog and rain, are forced to endure two whole months of dry and inspiring weather. Hardships such as these are difficult to bear, but we will go on, painful as that may be. Heh heh - two amicably raised fingers and a dirty grin for you all, my brothers and sisters en Amerique.
Once again, my Phalaenopsis is flowering; it's a Marks & Spencer's mongrel, but it's beautiful, elegant, and carries an inflorescence of no fewer than twelve blooms. And they're all opening at once... I'll be buggered if that's not a record. Coming from me, species puritan, it's hard to admit that I love this plant, but I do. The petals taste good too. Don't ask. I try everything; Gingko biloba tastes like bitter, green apples. Perhaps I shouldn't skip my medication.
For the particular amusement of a certain somebody, I kinda like it, but the lips are all wrong...
