The Reluctant Radio

There is something wrong with my radio. It's a DAB radio, which I'm not sure it it makes any difference, but possibly does. With the facility to search out and find radio stations this is pretty useful, however it's not so useful if the bloody thing is taking a tizzy fit and showing constant signs of petulance. It used to be each morning I would plug it in turn it on and there would be the World Service to listen to in pretty good clarity. However, this is not the case now. It sounds as though someone has walked in front of the aerial and is obstructing it. On and off they walk and sometimes this imaginary individual just stands there for the fun of it disturbing my morning ritual. It's not a nice thing to do.  I'd kill him if I could put my hands around his imaginary neck, but it is not a man at all it's the radio itself. Last time this happened I found the mains wire was not fully connected to the back and it didn't take any effort to fix it. Now though the irritating interference has become stubborn and an uninvited guest who just isn't getting the message to feck off.

So the morning ritual has changed. It's plug the radio in, turn it on, put on my toast and the kettle, return to the radio and begin the first round of diagnostics.  Set the auto retune on, for a moment or two there is now audio, it sets itself up again and then returns to the radio station, but it still has interference. What is the use of having an auto retune if it doesn't work I wonder. Toast gets buttered, tea gets made and I sit down with the radio and try moving it to a different place on the table. Eat my toast, drink my tea and see if there is any difference. A momentary laps of audible sound comes out and then it reverts again to squeaking, squelching audio diarrhoea with intermittent speech.  This morning in frustration I reverted to the age old give-it-a-thump repair method. This is used by many a man and helps rather to make one feel better than it does to cure the problem. It wasn't a hard thump and a kind of palm of hand juddering thud. I didn't want to make it any worse than it already was although the thought has procured to me just to throw the thing out, which would solve the problem, except I'd have to purchase another one. Till such a time it would be me and silence. With silence probably winning out and breaking me down in a strangle hold of broken ritual versus coping with my own company. Sometimes I find I don't want to be with me but I can't very well run away from myself and the radio is a distraction. What an arsehole I can be. It's true, I'm sure a lot of people have the same self reflections, just some don't listen to it.

Being a Sunday and a bank holiday tomorrow, there is no rush to do anything much. I made a second cup of tea and listened to the thing doing an impersonation of a radio.  Yet gradually the audio was becoming a little clearer. It wasn't like I had successfully found a position the radio liked to be in. The thing was actually sounding the way it should sound. The voices on the radio were clearer. I could make out conversations, amazing.  It now worked.  Probably about forty minutes had passed before it decided to warm up and be accommodating. Maybe I shouldn't of thumped the thing? Or maybe it was working because I did thump it and it was afraid not to fix itself.  The rest of the morning was even more relaxed as I did little else and merged into the day knowing my skills of radio repair had temporarily been successfully.  Well, we'll see if they work tomorrow, I'll not change job just yet.

Vertigo while at ground level

After spending part of my Saturday afternoon just doing shit, which means passing the time away to no particular purpose at all,  ventured onto newspaper site to catch up with the latest.  In true not-much-to-do fashion I meandered onto the videos. A shark was eaten by a very large fish and there is then a video from a free-runner at height.  He climbs a crane from the very bottom, step by step his feet are recorded as he goes from one part of the structure to another. He must of been wearing some kind of camera helmet because it is a first person perspective. Eventually he reaches the top. Now this has got to be an odd thing, but while I sat there at ground level watching this video I began to get vertigo, feeling dizzy and having a sense puzzlement because I wasn't holding on tight to anything and maybe I should be because after all this was pretty high up.  Another side of the brain kicked in, it tried to reassure the perceptual fooling which was going on.  Yes, my feet are on the ground, I am sat in a comfortable chair, I can feel the back of the chair as it warms my back. As the video progressed I switched from full screen to normal mini screen and then made sure the volume was completely turned off.  Not that it could be heard above the music playing in the pub. Come on, logic kick in, this is not real, it is a recording, I have not climbed up this crane and certainly not in the one and a half minute which has only passed. But it didn't matter what I thought, how much I tried to talk myself into being as logical as possible, I still felt dizzy.

Perhaps it is something to do with wearing glasses, because when you wear glasses you are more focused on what the immediately front view, than on the periphery.  Objects at the edge of view can be seen, but focus is definitely on those things which are in focus.  The free-runner now walked along the arm of the crane, as he looked down the tops of buildings and cars could be seen moving. They looked so small, they were far below.  Normally things don't look small unless they are actually small or a long way away.  He then did something utterly stupid in my book and had me reaching for an imaginary parachute, or white knuckle ride cage support.  Neither of which were there.  The video showed him hanging by his hands, looking down at his dangling body and feet. If I were completely fooled by this scene I would of been sick. I wasn't but it still didn't stop the dizzness going into overdrive. He now hung with one arm by his side, suspended by a single hand. Feck. This dude has got a suicide wish, and guess what? It would of all been caught on cam, well, providing the cam didn't disintegrate once he hit the road below.

The eye and the brain are amazing things, but it seems even they can be evaded by persons with no common sense. Then again I did hear common sense was in short supply nowadays.

24 hours without food

After a dicky tummy episode one morning I knew was something not right.  Having last eaten the previous evening I decided to continue with this abstinence.  So from 8 p.m. on one day to 8 p.m. the next I ate nothing hoping it would cure the shites.  My belief is intestinal acids build up and then incinerating the dirty little virus thing dwelling within the gut.  Just as it helps not to have a stomach of food which eventually would have to find it's way out.  However, I am not a biologist but it sounds reasonable enough to someone with their head screwed on.  Abstaining from food doesn't hurt either, some do it for religious reasons, others to diet. Whatever the reason it would have a multifaceted advantageous effect on me.  This belly could do without a few calories and the scales might even look on with happiness as well. I can hear them now, "get off ya fat bastard" if they could talk that is.
The other thought besides the need to stop running to the toilet, was this whole thing would be a test of my own determination.  Fasting for me is not something which comes naturally, whereas eating is, and starting in the evening meant all I had to do was endure a few hours before going to bed because there would be no desire to eat while asleep. Providing I didn't wake up in the middle of some erotic food related dream. Mind I don't remember my dreams much anyway. So it was, the day began.

I thought the morning would of been difficult, sitting in the kitchen and drinking a cup of tea listening to the radio. When normally it would of been toast, tea and radio. I did notice a feeling of just taking it easy and not needing to rush about. Probably this was the residual of a recent holiday and the post holiday euphoria kicking in again. I must admit the tea did have a better fuller taste to it than normal does. Perhaps this was linked to my expectation I was not to eat all day long and had to savour every drink from this moment onwards. Which reminds me I must learn how to make Indian Chai.  It wasn't until I was sat at my desk at work I could then feel my belly rumbling. It knew something was missing, but I just looked at the monitor in front of me and thought concentrate on work, do your job, if you do this then your mind will be taken off the need to eat.  It seemed to work, but waiting for lunch time to come took forever.  Again at lunch I know considered well I will not be spending money on food. If this is an exercise I can do on a more regular basis it could work out to save me some dosh. I do spend too much money on lunchtime food as I rarely make my own sandwiches.  Walking through the market at lunch time I could smell the open fast food stalls, one specialises in Nepalise the other in plane greasy burgers and there's a third does Caribbean food.  I could of gone over and bought something. But no, I carried on walking to the pub where I have my lunchtime coffee.  It's nice sitting in there. Getting my phone out I could spend more time catching up with the BBC news website and of course make a phone call to Sparkling Eyes.

While inside the pub someone had ordered a plate of fish and chips. The smell of the fish was pungent and I could feel my nostrils flare up. It was like if I could breath in deep enough I would be tasting this fish and chips, even if it was overly smelly.  The experience of being forced to smell it was awful. My belly was again having some weird stuff happen. It felt swollen on account of the undiagnosed self diagnosed IBS. It had become solid as a football. This is one of the things I hate about being overweight, having a belly which means I don't get to see my feet unless I'm sat down. It's not a pretty sight.  So with purpose, I managed to get through the afternoon, constantly trying to distract myself by getting on with my work. I had a similar temptation period after leaving work and popping in the pub for a pint of Guinness, some lads had ordered burgers and chips. Bastards. The smell of those chips almost made me break, but I wasn't going to now, only a couple of more hours and it would be a full 24 hours.

Later in the evening I did eat and managed a full 24 hours.  However, I should of gone through to the next morning again just to make sure the belly virus was burnt to hell.  Missing out on a day's food made me feel a little better about myself and it probably has helped a little in trying to lose weight as well.  A full pound in weight is 3500 calories and an hour's walk is about 450 calories. It sure is a lot of energy.  There are two parts however to a diet, one eating less and two exercising more.  Damn it's tough to, because exercise gives you an appetite just when you should not eat the desire is so much more. 

Dose of the shites

I got the shites, it's not very nice, it never is, but this is a particularly bad dose of the shites. I'm not permanently shitting, but get attacked by sudden spasms. This morning has been awful, I was attacked again and intestinal warfare is such a nasty business, it seemed I had my arse on the bog for about twenty minutes. A bit like the movies jaws, when you thought it was safe to return to the water the large sharp toothed fishy would hit again. As I sat there and relieved myself feeling relieved about to disengage like a spacecraft would undock with the space station, I'd then be hit again with another wave. It wasn't a pretty sound, sometimes even explosive, I thought about what I'd eaten and something suspicious came to mind.

Now this was probably the biggest beef in black bean sauce and steam rice they had ever given me at my Chinese.  It could of fed a family of four. Or one budding fat man who is now in the obese category. So I ate it, the lot. It didn't taste as good as it should of tasted. I was sure a piece of meat was not right, but it went down anyway. Maybe it shouldn't of, I haven't been back there since. On account of a recent reading from the kitchen scales. Although they don't talk the did creek and if they were able to talk they would of said "get of you fecking fat bastard" what language from a domestic appliance as well. Yes, it was the beef, there was something not right about it and I am paying for it now. The thing is whatever I eat has had a funny taste to it. Maybe it has been multiple sources which have given me the shites? Talk about having a bad day, or possibly a bad week in this case. It was so bad this morning I've in even wondered whether I should go into work. For the moment though it is calm. Mind there can't be much left in this fat belly which can be lost out my arse.

A look of the NHS website indicates there are three stomach problems which can cause the shites. Unfortunately the worse one can last several weeks, it's called Giardiasis. Having this might even be an advantage and help my weight loss.The other two causes last less than a week. This one is the hard nosed ebola of shites, it's a parasite which lives in the belly and can be treated with antibiotics. It's a bloody amazing what you'll look up on the internet when you're ill. I know I have a fragile belly but this form of the shites is news to me. I don't think I'll boast about it though, I'll just run off to the toilet when needed, but now I think about it a standby packet of tissues might be useful. Just in case someone else has the shites and uses the last one from the dispenser. When you get to my age it's all about safety and security. Or rather having a bloated painful belly, which is generally bloated anyway.

They say there is always a light at the end of the tunnel, my shite is getting to see a lot of that at the moment. For the time being there's a lull, yep, it's the lull before the next shite storm. A very real one at as well.

A morning lay in

I got the day off work, there's a need to get this long haired mop cut, so what better an excuse to have a day off work. I never get hair cuts at weekends when the hairdressers become factory chicken machines pumping out one customer after the other. Nope, a weekday is best and not too early or during their lunch break.

It was odd waking up this morning I'd had a good sleep. My phone read 6 a.m. but this is way to early to get up on a day off. So even though the bed was hot I got greedy and wanted more sheep counting. So I laid there and concentrated.  It didn't seem to come. I've had this before, when you think hours have passed but check the time and only a minute or two have crept by. It's like your internal time counting clock is on amphetamines and the world around you is slow. At some time I'd had enough and decided to actually get up, looking at my phone I then saw two hours had passed not ten minutes. It was like I had actually jumped forward in time, I had got the benefit of an extra sleep, but it didn't feel like it. It felt like my fingers had been snapped and magically I'd gone forward through the morning. If only being at work was like this, when two seconds could become two hours.

So ever late, still not up and washed I catch up on the latest Scottish referendum debate, but also know I need to get changed and washed. The things you have to do when waking up. Today I'm going to be a lazy arse, it's all there is to it.

Sunday Walk and feeling blue

I went for my usual Sunday walk today, it lasted about 3 hours and was enjoyable. I checked out the weather which was mild at 22 degrees C max.  I like taking a walk on Sundays, it is relaxing. I get to think and to exercise at the same time, however, stopping off at a shop I bought chocolate and crisps so had probably cancelled out any of the health benefits from the hours of pavement pounding. What a bloody shame. Of course it is the first Sunday without waking up with Sparkling Eyes next to me in bed and being able to get a hug.  As usual the sun was bright and acted like an alarm clock as it pierces through the curtains. Maybe the curtains are too thin, or the sun is too hard, I need thick heavy ones which block out light more effectively and to repaint the walls a dark colour so light does not reflect.

Rather than go into work this weekend I decided to take the weekend off as leave, returning last week to two days was depressing to say the least.  I'm in a belligerent mood as well, having seen a member of my family who hasn't worked for years and arguing they should get a job because my taxes are paying for their dole money.  I get to feel maybe I been watching too many of those TV programs about benefits scroungers, especially those living of a pittance and insisting they can not and will not work. When I was in Scotland I went to a cafe, it was an ordinary cafe, and there was surprised most of the staff were Polish. I couldn't understand why there were not Scottish, and wondered if Scots didn't like working in Cafes.

The walk helped clear my mind a little. When I got back I soon came over feeling tired so laid on bed for an hour. It was the heat.  I'm sure summer is now in it's decline the solstice must of passed by now so we are gradually moving towards winter.  Schools have also let their children out, they have 6 weeks off from school and don't know what to do with themselves.  Maybe they should be sent to work for a taster of what it is like.  It's bloody hard and their thinking life is nothing but play is a dream waiting to be shattered by reality.  I saw on one news web site how children as young as 4 or 5 were working in one developing country. It doesn't mean it is right, it's just a little work never harmed anyone especially if there is some pocket money involved in it.

I feel blue still, it was returning from the holiday which did it.  But then you can't stay on a holiday all your life, not even if you're a scrounger.

Monster Boy, a holiday in Prague and catching up

It has been a while since my last BLOG, life can get in the way of doing things. Obstacles so to say.

A brief update.

Little Monster Boy is more of a teenager than he is a monster boy now. He is getting his own opinions and he disagrees with whatever is said in a belligerent manner. When asking for his opinion on something he spouts out conspiracy theories he's read on the internet, it is like he has become a babbling crazy man who is completely unconvincing.  But yet, when I say he must be hot with his long hair and it probably needs a cut, given it's in the mid 80s F and I can see beads of sweat on his neck he'll say "no it's not hot."  This of course makes me feel like he is treating me like an idiot and could easily result in an argument. I guess it is the natural progression of teenagers, they argue, they seek their nook and cranny and they are fed up with adults telling them what to do.  Not to mention being pain in the back sides.  When Monster Boy was young I used to seek out his company and enjoyed it because he was young and had that wonderful view of life. Where the only important thing was Doctor Who, now when we go out for a walk I even notice him glancing at girls.  Although he doesn't have a girlfriend yet, I wonder how long it will be. Unfortunately he is the geeky type and nice geeks don't get girlfriends early, they generally have to wait a few extra years. So now if I take him out for a walk I have to be prepared for either a discussion with someone who is off his head and wants to argue or a case of me doing all the talking and him just nodding  his head like a toy. Neither of which is much use to either of us, I like discussion, two ways, I can talk to a wall any time there's a lot of them about.

I got back a few days ago from seeing Sparkling Eyes, it was as usual wonderful. We also had a holiday in Prague.  I was a little disappointed by Prague because it appears to be exceptionally set up for tourists.  There may well be history there, great architecture, wonderful beer, but it is like every shop has a purpose of getting money out of tourists. They sell crappy little tourist trinkets for people to take back home, the sort of things which go on shelves and have no use, that cost more than they are worth and were made in China in a sweat factory workshop. Hell I can get those things anywhere. The most useful thing which Sparkling got on the entire holiday was a hand fan, again a toursity thing but she used it and it went everywhere with her, unfortunately it got torn.  The temperature in Prague was exceptionally high on some days.  We walked around a tourist market and at one point I came across some thermometers, they were in the shade and registering temperatures of either 34 or 36 degrees Celsius.  I walked slow, I just don't know what it was, I just could not pull myself together to walk fast.  It was at this time I realised the worst season you can visit a country is during the height of summer, for you are always tired and don't have the motivation to get up and see the sights. The fact is I may have liked Prague if it was not for the tourists. It was disappointing to be in an ex communist country as well to find how expensive it was, the prices should of been cheaper, but unfortunately the Czech Republic is running into the EU like yet another demented sheep following the herd.

When I returned to London from Scotland the next day I would be in the Fish Factory.  I just didn't want to go back. I hated the idea of returning to it.  I felt like I needed another 6 months off work and it was the realisation of work pressure which hit home.  I felt sad and fragile. Missing Sparkling, missing being woken up at 2:30 a.m. by Olly the cat who treats me like his constant bitch, missing my morning hug of Sparkling and someone to love and love back. Fed up with my immediate family who are set in their own psychic vicious circles and don't want to change.  To the extent I wonder if it is me who has the problem, maybe I should be talking to brick walls, I guess every brick wall has its own personality and although they are all similar you can guarantee never to get into an argument with one, it will always be silent and always non judgemental.  I can see a few traits there similar to good psycho analysts.

Maybe it's because I am angry at things. Angry at a lot of stuff and just have to let things go even though at times it feels like being shite on from a height. Holding on to anger doesn't help me, it's like holding onto the fat around my girth. Heck does this mean I am a screwed up individual. Probably, but probably no more screwed up than anyone else. Now what I need is a holiday but without the tourists.