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|Sunday, June 1st, 2008|
As I was walking into work, I noticed a shoal of decent sized fishes in the Tolka below me. I not enough of a fish expert to identify them, other than as fishes with silvery undersides. Difficult to count, but there seemed to be around a hundred following each other in circles. Sometimes splitting or joining.
|Wednesday, May 14th, 2008|
Farther down the line, TSA agents tapped Tom Hawtin to use the Millimeter Wave machine. Hawtin, who was headed to his home in Perth, Australia, said he enjoyed the process.
"I suppose it's a good thing for airport security, but it doesn't really bother me because I have nothing to hide," Hawtin said. "It also got me through the security line a little quicker."
That wasn't me. I don't want security agents looking through my clothes
, even if the image is blurred.
Also, I'm sure technology and journalistic interest will move on quickly enough to make it nice and sharp.
|Monday, March 31st, 2008|
|Worst text editor of all time - a poll
Which is the worst text editor of all time?
Notepad - proof that *they* can make even the simplest program an unusable buggy mess
Vanilla vi - still setting the bar for user hostility
gedit - a little bit buggy, crashes out and generally a bit crap
Guess who is just a little but frustrated.
|Saturday, March 29th, 2008|
|Tuesday, January 1st, 2008|
Started: Dartmouth Inn, Totnes. Ended: Christchurch Place, Dublin (rather quiet).
In financial terms I'm doing much better. I started the year unemployed, little money and living in a shed. I did a six month contract (which I regret) and now have a permanent job hacking. Pity I can't get a Euro debit or credit card to spend it.
The contract was "working from home", so I moved to Edinburgh cuz it's nice. Grassmarket was by far the best place I've lived. The obvious choice for the permanent job was Farnborough. Unfortunately that place is an absolute hole. Perhaps I could have commuted, but the office is three miles from the train stations. So, I'm working in Dublin 3 and living in Dublin 1.
I took more flights this year, than in the rest of my life (so far) put together: Exeter <-> Edinburgh, Edinburgh <-> Gatwick <-> Ibiza, Glasgow <-> Dublin, Edinburgh <-> Brussels (via Heathrow), Dublin <-> Standsted. I'll probably do more in 2008, once I get a euro debit card. Though I doubt anywhere as exotic as to have few English speakers.
Living out on a smallholding in the middle of nowhere is not my idea of fun. Particularly without transport and knowing few people. Edinburgh, I didn't know anyone and didn't see anyone at work, but I was in the middle of it, and I could walk up Arthur's Seat if I wanted a break. Dublin (dog shit splattered old town), I don't know anyone outside of work in the country. I stayed in Ireland for Christmas - my xmas dinner was a Tesco Value ready meal.
With regular (if not particularly energetic) exercise, I've seem to have lost a bit of waist. I feel like I would like to be a little more energetic with the exercise. I don't have my folding bike in this country, and bicycles are not allowed in my block of flats. Other than getting my upper back and shoulders severely sunburnt, my health seem to be stable.
|Tuesday, December 4th, 2007|
|New year's memeage
In 2008, tackline
Be nicer to thetravelpit
Lose ten pubs by March.
Take evening classes in edinburgh.
Cut down to ten hacks a day.
Give up corner cases.
Give up clubbing.
Ten hacks a day? Noooo!!11!
|Thursday, September 13th, 2007|
|Wednesday, August 22nd, 2007|
So, sent a few enquiries to agents about properties found on daft.ie and let.ie. Not heard a thing back. Actually, that's not entirely correct. I got one undelivered mail returned from a web form, which I reposted to an address found on the agent's web site.
How come agents are so fucking crap?
|Monday, August 20th, 2007|
I have nowhere to live. I handed in the notice for my flat this afternoon. I accepted a job offer in Dublin (which is subject to a medical - I'm decidedly not too keen on having my testicles examined by some bloke). A visit is booked for next week. Looks like I'll be paying twice what I did for this place, and that will get me somewhere that isn't even next to the castle.
|Tuesday, August 14th, 2007|
Anything that has a first time has a last time. Sometimes the first time is the last time, which can be disheartening if you know it at the time. Most things never happen.
Some things just haven't happened yet. Sometimes the first time you think is last time really isn't, but that's bloody unlikely.
Today was worth going out. Tried the Counting House again. Not much of bar and a bit confusing, so I went to the Pear Tree instead. Quiz night. Argh.
Went to the JDW for a quiet half. No Strongbow. I know it tastes really nasty, but what is up with the supply in Edinburgh at the moment.
Then back across to Frankenstein's Pub, for the now twice a week, somewhat worn, Rocky Horror night. Half pint of Strongbow there, followed by it being off. I was very disappointed that Camilla (okay, not particularly Rocky Horror, but gothed up and very nice) didn't win their little competition. Still, she was very gracious about it.
|Monday, August 13th, 2007|
|Fringe Sunday thing.
I did set my alarm for 11:00, but got to the meadows at 3:30. The six times I got woken up last week I found it difficult to go back to sleep. When I do want to wake up, I apparently turn the alarm off rather than snooze.
So, lots of people milling about. Not a great deal in the way of performances. For instance, a magician of some sort that when I was there was just giving the tedious filler.
I did get into the back of the comedy tent. Of course had people walking past me. Couldn't see anything as the Bank of Scotland sponsorship was apparently too tight to allow for raised platforms of any type. Heard the end of the act. The person introducing the act seemed a little bit rude. Implied that she wasn't listening. Didn't have details of where the previous performer was performing (Christina Davis, "Sex", Gilded Ballon, Teviot from midnight). But she did manage to screw up the performance of her own joke, so that was funny. The following act was for some reason moved from the cabaret tent, took some time to get sorted, and I couldn't work out why they were there.
|Friday, August 10th, 2007|
I should get out more. Specifically I should see some fringe shows. I deliberately made sure I was available, yet haven't done anything about it. Instead I have spent the last eight hours being very pissed off about being woken up by some cunt, and extending my winning FreeCell streak to 1600.
|Thursday, August 9th, 2007|
A little earlier I was woken up by someone pressing my doorbell repeatedly over the space of about five minutes. The buzzer in my flat is incredibly loud, much like a fire alarm, and getting woken up by it is highly unpleasant. Just as well I don't have a weak heart, because I'd be burried long ago.
Why is it in this day and age anyone can ring doorbells as they see fit. No matter I'm asleep and don't want to see you anyway. We still have keys than can be copied by casually taking a photograph. I don't want my doorbell to be rung unless I approve the visitor in advance. I'm not going to approve random arseholes, strangely enough.
If I e-mail someone I expect a reply in the same medium. I don't expect to be woken up in the morning twice. You've also got to boggle at companies whose idea of a web presence is to allow submitting requests to be phoned by some arse. Genius.
Likewise, deliveries should check with me before waking me up. That's five times this week I have been woken up. Twice by Amtrak who now expect me to go to their "Edinburgh" depot which is nowhere near Edinburgh. Perhaps internet shopping would be more pleasant if delivery companies were in anyway set up to make home deliveries, instead of being a bunch of incompetent cunts. The post office have managed to lose three of my Amazon deliveries and return a bank statement (causing my debit card to be rejected) despite delivering with the same (correct) address before and after.
|Wednesday, August 8th, 2007|
ShagTag depresses me (it's not anything like Dubling ShagTag, btw). Or at least it would if I was the sort of person to get depressed. It makes me slightly less chipper, and I started out this evening with a bit of a chipper deficiency.
It's alright if I don't get any message. Don't really expect any. The problem is I get some. Sometimes the sender number is missing or illegible. Pretty much guaranteed if I get the number, I wont be able to find the person who sent it. I did once - they ignored me.
Anyway, this evening i got a hand on my knee (well she was getting down off a chair) from a girl I rather fancied. And that is progress as far as I am concerned. I think she came from Roxburgh, which is so far out in the middle of nowhere that Amtrack have their depot (near) there (which means I actually need to answer the doorbell this morning):.
|Monday, July 16th, 2007|
|¿Podria decirme cómo llegar a Sant Josep a pie?
I hate ticketweb. I was one of the first to buy a ticket to see Pink. Thought I'd be right up close. That was the impression given on their map. Turns out I was way back. Even after spending over three hundred pounds on a new pair of glasses, she was a fuzzy little figure. Rather pissed off.
OTOH, reducing me to the point of tears recently are lastminute and expedia. Just how spectacularly unusable are their websites? I can only assume it is to fuck customers off enough that they don't have the will to live let alone look at a competitors site, or find a better deal. Spent a silly amount of time, and ended up mucking things up a bit. Almost certainly I could have saved my self a fair amount of money too.
I'd still end up with the problem of getting across Ibiza at 1 AM. Unless anyone fancies sharing a taxi, I think that's going to be a 20 km walk - slightly shorter than my walk the other week, but hotter and steeper. I have a Berlitz map of the island, but it is a bit poor. It's small. Has no index. It only has a street map of Ibiza town, not San Antoni. Worst of all, it connects roads that according to google maps (including "satelite") are dead ends.
|Saturday, July 7th, 2007|
White pants. Nearly new 'wine' towel. I don't think this is going to be a good look for me.
|Sunday, July 1st, 2007|
|Lava & Ignite
In a departure from my usual Saturday routine, after seeing the raft race and Idlewild, I went out to Lava and Ignite for the first time. Ethos and Visage back when I was in Hemel used to be quite fun, so in theory this place should be okay.
Thing is, I expect to drink when I go out to a drinking establishment. This place only had Stella and Tennents on draft. So I had to make do with a Smirnoff Ice for £3.70(!), which I made last over three hours.
|Wednesday, June 20th, 2007|
|Sunday, June 10th, 2007|
|Checking facts is for wimps.
An airline exclusively for WAGs (and very camp men) who don't like jets? Operating out of a regional airport, Fly Pink (or FlyPink depending upon which set of tabloid Chinese whispers you subscribe to) will fly Fokkers (really) to fashion cities. I guess this takes the lead from business class only airlines. The difference being that business travel is a core part of airline business. I'm not an aviation geek, but flying a turboprop to Milan doesn't sound a great idea to me.
At least it wasn't a blonde behind the enterprise. The claimed domain name letsflypink.com doesn't have a web site yet, but was registered just over a month ago to a male individual. Anyway, they start operating tomorrow, so good luck in getting that Type A operating licence by then.
I would like to claim that it was the blatant absurdity that first tipped me off. Actually it was from remembering Catch-22 on M!ssundaztood (am I too old for an album with that sort of spelling?). Knock me the fuck out.