To my Dearest Brother:
Happy Birthday Chris! Happy 30th. A real milestone and a great excuse to celebrate. An excuse for many for a mid-life crisis too, but really, I think the best is yet to come!
I hope you had a lovely day and I wish you all the best of good health, good loving and good luck for the next 30.
Yours for Ever and Always,
Sister Dearest.
Monday 31 March 2008
Wednesday 26 March 2008
A week of disasters - cathartic?
The last week has been pure hell. But at the same time it’s very cathartic. I don’t tend to deal with any ‘issues’ troubling me when I’m happy and healthy. But I’ve discovered in this last week that there really is a bottom to the pit and that once you reach it, the things you thought you once couldn’t touch with a ten-foot barge pole become strangely approachable.
In this last week I have hit bottom. I discovered that my plans for my life were not compatible with the UK government’s plans and as a result my life has been turned upside down. Where I was intent on staying, I now have to leave. On top of this I discovered I have to have an operation to fix my thumb as I managed to chip a bone and damage a ligament in it and I won’t get the strength back without surgery. I also have to move out of my comfortable home, which I now can’t afford, requiring packing that my thumb does not like at all. I have lost my job here, because they need someone to do the work and I won’t be around, and so I now have to interview my own replacement. I have caught the latest of a very long line of colds that has me shaking and dizzy with every minor exertion, also not good for this packing lark. I have rampant eczema and tension headaches from the stress of all this and I’ve been grinding my teeth so I’ve lost a filling which is damn painful. I actually do have somewhere to stay in Aus but no job there, so I’m expecting to go on a rabid job hunt when I get over the jetlag. And if, when I go back, I am successful in my application for a visa for this country, I will have to do all the packing and job hunting again when I return back here. Not to mention that I will have to survive three winters in a row. My flatmate is unhappy, my work is unhappy, my bank account is unhappy, my body is unhappy, and I am unhappy.
It’s been a crap week.
So what have I been doing? Not concentrating on the good these challenges will bring, nor (any longer) getting drunk every evening to blot it all out. No, I’ve been investigating the depths of my psyche and uncovering all of the very painful and uncomfortable things I‘ve hidden there, if you please. And, wonder of wonders, although they are indeed distressing, bitter, agonizing and shameful memories, I may actually be making some headway along the path towards dealing with them, and putting them to rest. When you’re crying anyway, what’s one more reason to be unhappy? I would have thought I’d be too overwhelmed and too depressed to crawl out of bed. Instead I’m just mightily fed up and want to get it all over and done with. And I’m dealing with some unfinished business along the way. Yay me!
I will admit that earlier this week I was thinking that the Universe owed me a big one. Now I think it’s done me a favour. Very odd.
In this last week I have hit bottom. I discovered that my plans for my life were not compatible with the UK government’s plans and as a result my life has been turned upside down. Where I was intent on staying, I now have to leave. On top of this I discovered I have to have an operation to fix my thumb as I managed to chip a bone and damage a ligament in it and I won’t get the strength back without surgery. I also have to move out of my comfortable home, which I now can’t afford, requiring packing that my thumb does not like at all. I have lost my job here, because they need someone to do the work and I won’t be around, and so I now have to interview my own replacement. I have caught the latest of a very long line of colds that has me shaking and dizzy with every minor exertion, also not good for this packing lark. I have rampant eczema and tension headaches from the stress of all this and I’ve been grinding my teeth so I’ve lost a filling which is damn painful. I actually do have somewhere to stay in Aus but no job there, so I’m expecting to go on a rabid job hunt when I get over the jetlag. And if, when I go back, I am successful in my application for a visa for this country, I will have to do all the packing and job hunting again when I return back here. Not to mention that I will have to survive three winters in a row. My flatmate is unhappy, my work is unhappy, my bank account is unhappy, my body is unhappy, and I am unhappy.
It’s been a crap week.
So what have I been doing? Not concentrating on the good these challenges will bring, nor (any longer) getting drunk every evening to blot it all out. No, I’ve been investigating the depths of my psyche and uncovering all of the very painful and uncomfortable things I‘ve hidden there, if you please. And, wonder of wonders, although they are indeed distressing, bitter, agonizing and shameful memories, I may actually be making some headway along the path towards dealing with them, and putting them to rest. When you’re crying anyway, what’s one more reason to be unhappy? I would have thought I’d be too overwhelmed and too depressed to crawl out of bed. Instead I’m just mightily fed up and want to get it all over and done with. And I’m dealing with some unfinished business along the way. Yay me!
I will admit that earlier this week I was thinking that the Universe owed me a big one. Now I think it’s done me a favour. Very odd.
Monday 24 March 2008
The Easter Bunny brought Snow!
Well, it was sort of snow.
Actually the weather couldn't seem to decide whether it wanted to be snowing or raining. Or indeed sleeting, although I have no idea how on earth they tell the difference between sleet and hail 'cause it looks the same to me.
Sleet is, according to the interweb, formed from frozen rain or re-frozen snow, so will not be as symmetrical as hail, whereas hail is formed in the clouds themselves and get its circular appearance from being tossed about up there. Also, sleet will bounce… but then I thought hail did too. It was quite a bit gentler than hail usually is. Walking outside – for some insane reason I wanted to be out in it – it didn’t hurt to get sleeted on. But it still looked like hail to me.
Rain here, well most of the time it isn't rain really, not as we know it in any rate. Rather than giving you a good drenching, it just gets you half-heartedly damp. For example I walked home the other day in London's version of rain; I was wearing sneakers that were most definitely not waterproof, but it took the entire walk - a walk of about 40 minutes - for my feet to feel like they were just possibly approaching a state of dampness. And the rain that wasn’t snow was London’s version of rain, so I didn’t get wet, just sort of dottedly damp.
It was fun to watch the big snowflakes swirling about though, and some of them were a lot bigger than I thought snow would be. It got really enthusiastic at times too, doing a real snowstorm impersonation, but for most of the weekend, it just sort of undecidedly mooched between snow, sleet and rain. Kinda miserable really, but lovely to be on the other side of the glass from.
Saturday 22 March 2008
Eastercon
Planned Easter Activity: My first sci-fi convention ever – Eastercon 2008 aka Orbital, at the Radisson Edwardian Hotel at Heathrow.
Eastercon is a lit con as opposed to a media con. The difference? Lit, or Literature Conventions are generally standard conventions, where a program of events is set out and people come along and listen to pre-arranged talks on topics of interest and take part in panel discussions on same. The focus is generally on books and the invited guests are authors at a lit con. A Media Convention is one where you’ll get everyone dressed up as their favourite TV character and the focus is on the visual media so the guests are usually actors. Eastercon therefore had no darleks, no holograms, no storm-troopers and definitely no Klingons, just some lovely ladies in elaborate psudo-historical dresses and ornate make-up accompanied by men in elegant top-hats and tales with lacy cravats.
I was intending on spending most of the Easter weekend at the convention. It boasted one of my favourite authors as one of the guests of honour (Neil Gaiman), and I could have spent hours listening to him alone, but unfortunately Friday heralded the advent of a cold that has had me shaking and shivering and generally feeling much more than miserable all day. So the con got all but cancelled for me. I did go down there for a couple of hours, gingerly made my way around, lamented may lack of money and packing space 'cause there was a really good book selection on sale, was awed by the imagination of some of the artists who's paintings and drawings were on display, and amazed at some of the costumes people were wearing and the time and effort that must have gone into creating such elaborate get-ups. But then I had to go back home and curl up in bed.
I have every intention of attending next year and hopefully finding some more lit cons to go to, as I'd really like to know more about the community. Next time I’d even like to get to one of the presentations :S. I’d pre-paid for the weekend too. Mind you I didn't at all object to spending the money. The convention is run by volunteers and I’m always happy to support my favourite non-profit organisations.
So, interesting and I want more!
Eastercon is a lit con as opposed to a media con. The difference? Lit, or Literature Conventions are generally standard conventions, where a program of events is set out and people come along and listen to pre-arranged talks on topics of interest and take part in panel discussions on same. The focus is generally on books and the invited guests are authors at a lit con. A Media Convention is one where you’ll get everyone dressed up as their favourite TV character and the focus is on the visual media so the guests are usually actors. Eastercon therefore had no darleks, no holograms, no storm-troopers and definitely no Klingons, just some lovely ladies in elaborate psudo-historical dresses and ornate make-up accompanied by men in elegant top-hats and tales with lacy cravats.
I was intending on spending most of the Easter weekend at the convention. It boasted one of my favourite authors as one of the guests of honour (Neil Gaiman), and I could have spent hours listening to him alone, but unfortunately Friday heralded the advent of a cold that has had me shaking and shivering and generally feeling much more than miserable all day. So the con got all but cancelled for me. I did go down there for a couple of hours, gingerly made my way around, lamented may lack of money and packing space 'cause there was a really good book selection on sale, was awed by the imagination of some of the artists who's paintings and drawings were on display, and amazed at some of the costumes people were wearing and the time and effort that must have gone into creating such elaborate get-ups. But then I had to go back home and curl up in bed.
I have every intention of attending next year and hopefully finding some more lit cons to go to, as I'd really like to know more about the community. Next time I’d even like to get to one of the presentations :S. I’d pre-paid for the weekend too. Mind you I didn't at all object to spending the money. The convention is run by volunteers and I’m always happy to support my favourite non-profit organisations.
So, interesting and I want more!
Tuesday 18 March 2008
I'm Getting Deported...
Well, actually, no, I’m not being deported, but it feels like I am.
To say that I am frustrated with the Home Office right now is putting it mildly.
You see, pursuant to the idea that I would like to stay in this country for a little longer, I had investigated the possibility of getting a more usable visa. To whit: the HSMP or Highly Skilled Migrant Program visa. It’s based on a points system where points are awarded for qualifications, earning potential, UK experience, age and English language. Up until two weeks ago, I qualified. Now, I don’t. And of course, I could not apply until this week.
Why? They’ve brought in a new system, and now I can’t transfer from my current visa to the new system in the UK, I have to do it from Australia. Which means giving up job and home here, going back to Aus, finding a new job and home there for the two to four months it will take to get the visa, then move back here and find yet another new set of job and home when I get back here.
Not Happy Jan!
To say that I am frustrated with the Home Office right now is putting it mildly.
You see, pursuant to the idea that I would like to stay in this country for a little longer, I had investigated the possibility of getting a more usable visa. To whit: the HSMP or Highly Skilled Migrant Program visa. It’s based on a points system where points are awarded for qualifications, earning potential, UK experience, age and English language. Up until two weeks ago, I qualified. Now, I don’t. And of course, I could not apply until this week.
Why? They’ve brought in a new system, and now I can’t transfer from my current visa to the new system in the UK, I have to do it from Australia. Which means giving up job and home here, going back to Aus, finding a new job and home there for the two to four months it will take to get the visa, then move back here and find yet another new set of job and home when I get back here.
Not Happy Jan!
Friday 14 March 2008
Decision made....
Life here, although not a bed of roses, has really been good for me. I feel like I’m living life again instead of watching it, which I have been doing for many years. So in order to make sure this continues I have decided to let go of my safety line and have resigned from my job in Canberra. It is scary but the right thing to do I think. I have to move forwards, so I can’t go back. I’m a little sad, I’ll miss many of the guys there, but I’m satisfied that I’m making a positive move. So, it's the end of an era... Goodbye Canberra, Hello World.
Monday 10 March 2008
Lisbon, Portugal.
Day 1: I sure can pick ‘em. This hotel was in an of out the way back alley. I waited 3/4 hrs for a bus that's supposed to come every 20 minutes to get into the vicinity of the place and then walked through winding back streets that made me afraid I’d be mugged, but made it safely to the hotel and it was a nice clean place with a comfy bed.
Day 2: I ate the basic breakfast provided with the room and then wandered down into town to try to find a train station. Which was actually a lot more difficult than you’d think given the number of places I’ve been to now. You’d think I’d be good at navigating to and identifying different transport systems. The problem is that for every place you go to, the signs for how a train station is marked change, so I spent a good 20 minutes wandering around a massive intersection that was marked on my map as having a train station within it but only stumbled on it by accident because it wasn’t marked like any other train system I’d ever come across.
However, once found, the metro was clean, efficient, fast and spacious. It was very easy to understand too and absolutely lovely in comparison to the tube. And I’m sorry Helen, but it's even nicer than the Swedish equivalent. Which is odd, because the rest of Lisbon is well warn, quite frayed around the edges and has an air of decay. But in its defence it is old, and very well used and very well loved by the feel of things, so this isn’t necessarily a disadvantage.
As half of the reason that I came to Portugal was to see some sunshine and a beach and the sea, I wandered down into the centre of town, down the main boulevard and down to the shore. It was bitterly disappointing. It was all fenced off and very rocky, really not much to look at all and definitely not the sort of place you’d relax on. So I went to a café instead and had a cup of tea and a custard tart, which is a specialty of Lisbon (a more jellied version of your standard tart and sweeter), then went off to play tourist.
A little description; Lisbon is surrounded by, and drapes itself all over, 7 hills, and so has developed a network of quaint trams to get it’s inhabitants around, up and down. I caught the no 28 tram to the top of one of the hills, to a region called Alfama, and boy are parts of Lisbon ever STEEP! The tram was on a 45-degree angle for a lot of the time, and no, I am not joking!
Once up, I walked around and took pictures of and visited various places including the Igreja de Graca (a church), the Feira de Ladre (thieves market), had lunch in front of the Museu de Artes Decorativas and then wandered on to my main objective, the Castelo de Sao Jorge (Castle of Saint George!).
Which was Wow may I just say! It was better than sex, more exhilarating than a roller coaster ride, better food for my soul than any music and more satisfying than chocolate. It was fantastic. A real castle with real arrow slits that had been used in real battles, with a real draw bridge and real moat, real towers and the whole turret thing happening… I was in heaven. The castle’s first foundations were laid in 138 BC…. 138 BC. He he he he…wow. It wasn’t until 711 though, when the Moors arrived, that it was fortified and the mosque was built. It was fought over and sacked in the crusades in 1147. The actual crusades… yes I’m repeating myself but just being there with so much history made me dizzy. And I got pictures of some cats play fighting in the moat and some very gorgeous peacocks wandering out the front of the draw bridge, so it was all in all a magical interlude for me.
After which I took many, many winding streets down to the centre of town again. My feet were incredibly sore by the time I reached the bottom and my calves were killing me, not from walking but from the limestone cobbles everywhere that make walking an interesting proposition. So what did I do? I decided to put them through more torture and walked up another hill so see the bones of a church ruined in an earthquake in 1755. The Convento do Carmo was a Carmelite convent built in 1423. It has been 1/2 restored so is now a false ruin, but is breath-taking none-the less.
Then it was time to find my way to the place that was the ostensible reason for my visit: The Publico Atlantico, Lisbon’s entertainment centre equivalent, situated next door to the convention centre. To get there, I had to take a train, and coming out of the Orient train station, I will admit to being shocked. The station entrance looks like a crab about to eat you. Very cool.
The mushroom of the Publico Atlantico is also impressive. The roof is open under the eves, so even in the walkways surrounding the main stadium, the sound is just as loud as if you were inside the stadium itself. The Cure produced a fantastic concert as usual. The entire stadium was on it’s feet jumping in time to the music by the halfway mark. I was thrilled to hear some old favourites amongst their new stuff but left early to avoid the rush. I caught a taxi to save 30 mins of extra train travel and it cost me only 4 euro... Portugal is nicely not that expensive! I then crashed.
Day 3: Today I decided to be decadent and find a place to sit and read and absorb sunlight. In hopes of which I went first to the Parque Edwardo VII. It’s a huge linear garden but acts as more of a thoroughfare than a place to sit, and it was very steep and very windy, so I didn’t stop. I did however find a lovely restaurant behind the garden, situated beside a pond where I was able to relax for a bit. I had loads of tea and saw a tortoise, some tadpoles, some huge goldfish, and ducklings... But sitting at a restaurant table didn’t meet the requirement of sun-bathing.
So it was on to the university botanical garden, the Jardin Botanico. I think I might have mentioned that Lisbon is hilly? Well this was the first botanical garden I’ve been to where hiking boots are almost a requirement, not because of the muck and dirt but because of the steepness and rockiness of the paths. No manicured paradise this. Like all of Lisbon, a little warn, a little frayed around the edges, a little old and very well used. There was not much grass round, but here I finally found a place to lie down and read in the sun. Until the clouds rolled in… *sigh*… home time.
Just one more oddity to mention; traffic lights in Lisbon. They are very interesting. They use really small lights which are situated in the same alignment as the line that the cars stop at. I honestly have no idea how the drivers could see them, because I couldn’t, and they don’t get a second set across the intersection either. A mystery to be investigated on another visit I think.
Coming home our plane was delayed due to horrible weather in London. Delays seem to be part and parcel of plane travel. If you do enough of it, you’ll be delayed. It is just a fact of life. And at any rate, this delay wasn’t too bad. It was nothing compared to the delays in the US I had when I went through LAX when nobody wanted to tell us anything. The staff on this flight kept us informed at all times of what was going on, and the captain was really gracious, inviting anyone who wanted to, to come up to the flight deck and chat or ask questions or anything. Really lovely.
Of course, expectation management is the hardest. We got on board on time as usual, but then sat on the plane for two hours whilst the time we were able to land got pushed back and back at Heathrow. Eventually they told us all to get off, so we sat in the terminal for another couple of hours. Then they got us - hurriedly - back on board but we then had to sit and wait for another hour and a half. A lot of the passengers were getting upset because they had thought we were leaving the first time and to be delayed again… Well, I arrived at Lisbon airport at 5 am, was supposed to have landed at Heathrow at 9.30 so was hoping to be at work by 10.30. I didn’t make it to work until 3.30 pm. I suppose all things considered a delay of 5 hours isn’t bad. But I was totally wiped out by the time I did get to work.
Mind you there really is no point in getting annoyed or angry in any situation over which you have no control. It only makes you feel miserable, and by griping, you make everyone around you equally miserable. It’s best to take it all with a relaxed attitude which is what I tried to do. There’s nothing you can do about it, so what’s the point in making yourself sick with worry? There was one guy who had a tendency to be extremely ornery and who was doing just that – making everyone else around him miserable. I was getting very annoyed with the way he was badgering the poor flight attendants, when they couldn't do anything either, but luckily his attention was caught by the lovely lady sitting across the isle from him (intentionally on her behalf I believe) and his demeanour changed markedly. Last I saw of them they were sitting cosily in a cafe in Heathrow having both missed connections but not seeming to care at all - 8 hours of forced contact and co-inhabitancy will do that to you. So all’s well that ends well.
Day 2: I ate the basic breakfast provided with the room and then wandered down into town to try to find a train station. Which was actually a lot more difficult than you’d think given the number of places I’ve been to now. You’d think I’d be good at navigating to and identifying different transport systems. The problem is that for every place you go to, the signs for how a train station is marked change, so I spent a good 20 minutes wandering around a massive intersection that was marked on my map as having a train station within it but only stumbled on it by accident because it wasn’t marked like any other train system I’d ever come across.
However, once found, the metro was clean, efficient, fast and spacious. It was very easy to understand too and absolutely lovely in comparison to the tube. And I’m sorry Helen, but it's even nicer than the Swedish equivalent. Which is odd, because the rest of Lisbon is well warn, quite frayed around the edges and has an air of decay. But in its defence it is old, and very well used and very well loved by the feel of things, so this isn’t necessarily a disadvantage.
As half of the reason that I came to Portugal was to see some sunshine and a beach and the sea, I wandered down into the centre of town, down the main boulevard and down to the shore. It was bitterly disappointing. It was all fenced off and very rocky, really not much to look at all and definitely not the sort of place you’d relax on. So I went to a café instead and had a cup of tea and a custard tart, which is a specialty of Lisbon (a more jellied version of your standard tart and sweeter), then went off to play tourist.
A little description; Lisbon is surrounded by, and drapes itself all over, 7 hills, and so has developed a network of quaint trams to get it’s inhabitants around, up and down. I caught the no 28 tram to the top of one of the hills, to a region called Alfama, and boy are parts of Lisbon ever STEEP! The tram was on a 45-degree angle for a lot of the time, and no, I am not joking!
Once up, I walked around and took pictures of and visited various places including the Igreja de Graca (a church), the Feira de Ladre (thieves market), had lunch in front of the Museu de Artes Decorativas and then wandered on to my main objective, the Castelo de Sao Jorge (Castle of Saint George!).
Which was Wow may I just say! It was better than sex, more exhilarating than a roller coaster ride, better food for my soul than any music and more satisfying than chocolate. It was fantastic. A real castle with real arrow slits that had been used in real battles, with a real draw bridge and real moat, real towers and the whole turret thing happening… I was in heaven. The castle’s first foundations were laid in 138 BC…. 138 BC. He he he he…wow. It wasn’t until 711 though, when the Moors arrived, that it was fortified and the mosque was built. It was fought over and sacked in the crusades in 1147. The actual crusades… yes I’m repeating myself but just being there with so much history made me dizzy. And I got pictures of some cats play fighting in the moat and some very gorgeous peacocks wandering out the front of the draw bridge, so it was all in all a magical interlude for me.
After which I took many, many winding streets down to the centre of town again. My feet were incredibly sore by the time I reached the bottom and my calves were killing me, not from walking but from the limestone cobbles everywhere that make walking an interesting proposition. So what did I do? I decided to put them through more torture and walked up another hill so see the bones of a church ruined in an earthquake in 1755. The Convento do Carmo was a Carmelite convent built in 1423. It has been 1/2 restored so is now a false ruin, but is breath-taking none-the less.
Then it was time to find my way to the place that was the ostensible reason for my visit: The Publico Atlantico, Lisbon’s entertainment centre equivalent, situated next door to the convention centre. To get there, I had to take a train, and coming out of the Orient train station, I will admit to being shocked. The station entrance looks like a crab about to eat you. Very cool.
The mushroom of the Publico Atlantico is also impressive. The roof is open under the eves, so even in the walkways surrounding the main stadium, the sound is just as loud as if you were inside the stadium itself. The Cure produced a fantastic concert as usual. The entire stadium was on it’s feet jumping in time to the music by the halfway mark. I was thrilled to hear some old favourites amongst their new stuff but left early to avoid the rush. I caught a taxi to save 30 mins of extra train travel and it cost me only 4 euro... Portugal is nicely not that expensive! I then crashed.
Day 3: Today I decided to be decadent and find a place to sit and read and absorb sunlight. In hopes of which I went first to the Parque Edwardo VII. It’s a huge linear garden but acts as more of a thoroughfare than a place to sit, and it was very steep and very windy, so I didn’t stop. I did however find a lovely restaurant behind the garden, situated beside a pond where I was able to relax for a bit. I had loads of tea and saw a tortoise, some tadpoles, some huge goldfish, and ducklings... But sitting at a restaurant table didn’t meet the requirement of sun-bathing.
So it was on to the university botanical garden, the Jardin Botanico. I think I might have mentioned that Lisbon is hilly? Well this was the first botanical garden I’ve been to where hiking boots are almost a requirement, not because of the muck and dirt but because of the steepness and rockiness of the paths. No manicured paradise this. Like all of Lisbon, a little warn, a little frayed around the edges, a little old and very well used. There was not much grass round, but here I finally found a place to lie down and read in the sun. Until the clouds rolled in… *sigh*… home time.
Just one more oddity to mention; traffic lights in Lisbon. They are very interesting. They use really small lights which are situated in the same alignment as the line that the cars stop at. I honestly have no idea how the drivers could see them, because I couldn’t, and they don’t get a second set across the intersection either. A mystery to be investigated on another visit I think.
Coming home our plane was delayed due to horrible weather in London. Delays seem to be part and parcel of plane travel. If you do enough of it, you’ll be delayed. It is just a fact of life. And at any rate, this delay wasn’t too bad. It was nothing compared to the delays in the US I had when I went through LAX when nobody wanted to tell us anything. The staff on this flight kept us informed at all times of what was going on, and the captain was really gracious, inviting anyone who wanted to, to come up to the flight deck and chat or ask questions or anything. Really lovely.
Of course, expectation management is the hardest. We got on board on time as usual, but then sat on the plane for two hours whilst the time we were able to land got pushed back and back at Heathrow. Eventually they told us all to get off, so we sat in the terminal for another couple of hours. Then they got us - hurriedly - back on board but we then had to sit and wait for another hour and a half. A lot of the passengers were getting upset because they had thought we were leaving the first time and to be delayed again… Well, I arrived at Lisbon airport at 5 am, was supposed to have landed at Heathrow at 9.30 so was hoping to be at work by 10.30. I didn’t make it to work until 3.30 pm. I suppose all things considered a delay of 5 hours isn’t bad. But I was totally wiped out by the time I did get to work.
Mind you there really is no point in getting annoyed or angry in any situation over which you have no control. It only makes you feel miserable, and by griping, you make everyone around you equally miserable. It’s best to take it all with a relaxed attitude which is what I tried to do. There’s nothing you can do about it, so what’s the point in making yourself sick with worry? There was one guy who had a tendency to be extremely ornery and who was doing just that – making everyone else around him miserable. I was getting very annoyed with the way he was badgering the poor flight attendants, when they couldn't do anything either, but luckily his attention was caught by the lovely lady sitting across the isle from him (intentionally on her behalf I believe) and his demeanour changed markedly. Last I saw of them they were sitting cosily in a cafe in Heathrow having both missed connections but not seeming to care at all - 8 hours of forced contact and co-inhabitancy will do that to you. So all’s well that ends well.
Friday 7 March 2008
The Amazing thing that is an Internet Reader....
Jason has alluded to this topic previously. I would link to his blog on the subject but it’s fallen over and can’t seem to be able to stagger back onto its feet so maybe at a later date…
I want to talk to you about the wonder that is an RSS Reader. Now, unfortunately, I don’t really understand how it works myself, so I’m not sure if I can explain it, but it seems to be an application that allows to you to link to sites that put up regular content, like a news paper or a blog, and pull them into a single application page so you only have to go to one place to read all your favourite websites rather than many. If it does more than that, I haven’t discovered the fact yet, but it’s brilliance is in its simplicity anyway.
I use google reader 'cause that's were my email is, and it’s just easier to zip between the two when I’m already logged into one, but there are loads of RSS reader applications out there now. You can go through Yahoo, MSN, Ask Jeeves or AOL. One site I visited lately gave me a choice of 10 different readers to add the feed to.
I have been using mine to read all my favourite author blogs and get my daily dose of news from the science, IT and writing industries. And it is absolutely wonderful to be able to get the latest from all my favourite sites, in one place, without the adds and without the amazingly long loading times that some pages take. Of course, you don’t usually get additional images but if I really want to see the image, I can go to the original site.
All this has increased my reading scope, knowledge base and news input at least 10 fold. I have never really read newspapers, I don’t like getting ink on my hands and trying to manage the huge pages irks me, and going to twenty different sites just to check to see if an author I like has put up a new blog or a news site put up a new article on a subject that interests me has hairs on it; I’m essentially too lazy to do so. But the reader alerts you to any new additions to the pages you’ve linked to by highlighting the thread, so I can go strait to any site that has been updated, and don’t have to check every few days to find out if there is anything new.
I can now read around 20 articles in my lunch time (most blog posts are not long) and I get exactly the types of news I want from the people and places I’m interested in without having to search far and wide for them. It is a really good idea for someone as lazy as I am and means I actually do keep up with all the current events now whereas before I was quite the ignoramus.
Wohoo for Internet reader things!
I want to talk to you about the wonder that is an RSS Reader. Now, unfortunately, I don’t really understand how it works myself, so I’m not sure if I can explain it, but it seems to be an application that allows to you to link to sites that put up regular content, like a news paper or a blog, and pull them into a single application page so you only have to go to one place to read all your favourite websites rather than many. If it does more than that, I haven’t discovered the fact yet, but it’s brilliance is in its simplicity anyway.
I use google reader 'cause that's were my email is, and it’s just easier to zip between the two when I’m already logged into one, but there are loads of RSS reader applications out there now. You can go through Yahoo, MSN, Ask Jeeves or AOL. One site I visited lately gave me a choice of 10 different readers to add the feed to.
I have been using mine to read all my favourite author blogs and get my daily dose of news from the science, IT and writing industries. And it is absolutely wonderful to be able to get the latest from all my favourite sites, in one place, without the adds and without the amazingly long loading times that some pages take. Of course, you don’t usually get additional images but if I really want to see the image, I can go to the original site.
All this has increased my reading scope, knowledge base and news input at least 10 fold. I have never really read newspapers, I don’t like getting ink on my hands and trying to manage the huge pages irks me, and going to twenty different sites just to check to see if an author I like has put up a new blog or a news site put up a new article on a subject that interests me has hairs on it; I’m essentially too lazy to do so. But the reader alerts you to any new additions to the pages you’ve linked to by highlighting the thread, so I can go strait to any site that has been updated, and don’t have to check every few days to find out if there is anything new.
I can now read around 20 articles in my lunch time (most blog posts are not long) and I get exactly the types of news I want from the people and places I’m interested in without having to search far and wide for them. It is a really good idea for someone as lazy as I am and means I actually do keep up with all the current events now whereas before I was quite the ignoramus.
Wohoo for Internet reader things!
Sunday 2 March 2008
Tosca in the Round
I was invited by R & H to go to see Puccini’s Opera Tosca at the Royal Albert Hall. It was in The Round – ie, the performance was held on the Albert’s ample floor space – and we had tickets in the Second Tier!
It was slightly uncomfortable being perched so high up but it was a spectacular view and had an accompanying feeling of old world charm. I felt like I had been transported back 100 years to tell you the truth. The 8 seats in the box were perched on little platforms to give us a better view and we had a little antechamber for drinks and coats all to ourselves which had a door that had to be unlocked to let us enter. A little extravagant but oh so nice.
The production was good too. In English, which is nice every so often. I’ve seen Tosca 3 times now but this is the first time I’ve been able to understand all of the nuances. Mind you it was very strange hearing Vissi d’Arte and E lucevan le stile in English. It just didn’t sound right actually.
But it was a lovely evening none-the-less. My heart really does crave opera every now and then… it was food for the soul and I left feeling satiated and oh-so-happy.
It was slightly uncomfortable being perched so high up but it was a spectacular view and had an accompanying feeling of old world charm. I felt like I had been transported back 100 years to tell you the truth. The 8 seats in the box were perched on little platforms to give us a better view and we had a little antechamber for drinks and coats all to ourselves which had a door that had to be unlocked to let us enter. A little extravagant but oh so nice.
The production was good too. In English, which is nice every so often. I’ve seen Tosca 3 times now but this is the first time I’ve been able to understand all of the nuances. Mind you it was very strange hearing Vissi d’Arte and E lucevan le stile in English. It just didn’t sound right actually.
But it was a lovely evening none-the-less. My heart really does crave opera every now and then… it was food for the soul and I left feeling satiated and oh-so-happy.
Saturday 1 March 2008
Old Lady Scrum
I went to a craft fair today. It was held at London’s Exhibition centre which is known as ExCel... and may I just mention that that place is HUGE!!! I got lost. There were many exhibitions all taking place at the same time and finding one little one amongst all the rest… you had to walk for what seemed like miles to get anywhere. And the fair itself was the size of most craft fairs I’ve been too, so it wasn’t exactly small.
Anyway, due, I presume, to the expense of shop leases in central London, there are very few craft shops of the sort I frequented back in Aus. Oh, there are bead shops galore, but no needle work or patchwork shops in easy distance. I have lately felt the need to do some homely type stuff – a result of the combination of cabin fever due to the weather and the desire to have something to do when stuck at home I expect. So off I went to the fair…
This place was packed. It seemed that every crafter within the whole of greater London had turned up. They were mostly older ladies, but I wasn’t completely alone in my age bracket. Mind you, age did not stop them from elbowing and shoving each other out of the way of the best bargains by any means. It was rather amusing if slightly painful to wander around and watch their antics.
I spent a lot of money though. I now have too many cross-stitch packs to do and have started a new (and expensive) hobby: Beading. Thanks H.
*Sigh*
Ah well. I have plenty to do of an evening now. And as dearest H says – it’s all entertainment. It doesn’t matter how much it costs. If it keeps you busy and out of mischief and happy to be so occupied it’s worthwhile.
Anyway, due, I presume, to the expense of shop leases in central London, there are very few craft shops of the sort I frequented back in Aus. Oh, there are bead shops galore, but no needle work or patchwork shops in easy distance. I have lately felt the need to do some homely type stuff – a result of the combination of cabin fever due to the weather and the desire to have something to do when stuck at home I expect. So off I went to the fair…
This place was packed. It seemed that every crafter within the whole of greater London had turned up. They were mostly older ladies, but I wasn’t completely alone in my age bracket. Mind you, age did not stop them from elbowing and shoving each other out of the way of the best bargains by any means. It was rather amusing if slightly painful to wander around and watch their antics.
I spent a lot of money though. I now have too many cross-stitch packs to do and have started a new (and expensive) hobby: Beading. Thanks H.
*Sigh*
Ah well. I have plenty to do of an evening now. And as dearest H says – it’s all entertainment. It doesn’t matter how much it costs. If it keeps you busy and out of mischief and happy to be so occupied it’s worthwhile.
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