A good head above while being a good head shorter

I don't know what it is but I like midget actors, they have great personality and humour.  In the parts they play they have to be better than those around them to get to where they are.  There is a resigned acceptance of who they are in their bearing.  On those shoulders carry the stigmatised from years of prejudices and yet they walk on and play their part.  It maybe to do with their physical appearance, the walk, the difference in facial features, the height of course, but probably most of all they bring humanism and character.  As they act it comes through and I can not help but like them.  Their witty cynicism, at times crass use of language, depending on the part they play.  Odd though it sounds an pun like, you have to look up to them, or rather down to them in how they satisfy their roles.  For the writers must have them in mind when a script has been done, because it is the obvious, it is something which will be commented on, if it weren't then the script would fail and audiences be disappointed.  It must take some imagination to write the role being played by a midget.  I'm not sure if it is politically correct to use the word, but then denial of expression can compound words to make them more important and significantly when used.  To say height challenged, little person or use some other expression doesn't sound true and worse still sounds stupid.  Funny how playing to reduce prejudices can actually enhance and increase them.  How would a midget like to be described I wonder, without being offended.  Further how frustrating it can be not to call something by the accurate description of what it is.  Is political correctness to appease feelings of the subjects or the ones who use them.  If a word is used and over used it then lacks meaning, impact and significance.  So I just wanted to say, for some reason I like the parts played by midget actors, they are generally pretty good at what they do in serious drama, not counting the seven dwarfs of course.

Up the republic

It's been another hot day in London, but I hear the cold weather is on the way, it's in Scotland and Brighton.  It's all well and good, just as it should be.  We now head into the jubilee weekend, where a society with egalitarian views genuflects to baseless, irrelevant blue blooded persons.  Who are treated as if the sun shines out of their posteriors.  What they have done for me I don't know, but they do make old people happy, and children so young they haven't yet formed their own independent ideas but love the sight of bunting. 

I'll lay down an argument: someone by result of hereditary luck is a not better or worse individual than someone of who doesn't have the same fortune.  Firstly all human beings have similar genes, so similar we can interbreed with each other regardless of ethnicity, religion or eye colour.  Secondly every human being breaths air, eats food and craps.  Thirdly there is no such thing as royal blood or blue blood or purple blood, all blood is red.  Fourthly,  if we are physically the same or overwhelmingly similar as to have negligent dissimilarities there can be no place for any hegemonic belief in society.  For such a belief would be tantamount to racism and eugenics.  Consequently the good fortune of birth can not be down to genetic, physical, emotional, intellectual or psychological advantages at all.  It is nothing more than a perpetuation of a class system.  There is however two other advantages which come in part with the belief of the many.  One is money.  Being wealthy means private tuition, great connections and a guaranteed future career for family members providing they always keep it in the family.  Royals like to marry other royal connections. Except for Edward and Mrs Simpson being the obvious example of not keeping it in the family, and of true love.  Secondly is the perception by the masses these few people are different and better consequently leading to the bow, curtsy and any other supplicating shows of great deference.  The reality is not deference to the status of hereditary position but rather with hereditary good fortune and wealth and power.  Both their fortunes and powers gained by taking from the masses no other reason.  The poor stay poor and lick the boots of royalty.  Therefore any hegemonic belief system is based on racism.  Again another example can be seen in the second world war belief of "Great man theory" of leadership, which only went on to produce one catastrophe after another.

There is one argument for royalty, it attracts publicity and attracts tourists.  Finances sorely needed in a receding economy  However, whenever I have gone on holiday it has been of little consequence to me whether a country had royal rulers or not.  The old buildings would still be old buildings.  History would still be history, and beautiful sights would remain the same.  Having royalty has no value or little value.  However, were there a sudden wave of republicanism in the UK and the government then changed to boot out every royal person from their comfy seats on to unemployment benefit JSA for those in the know, this would bring publicity and tourism.  It would show how the UK really does believe in equality no matter who the individual was.  We can then wonder how the various persons will carry on the rest of their lives.  I'm sure their family issues would be little different from anyone else.  In fact it is high time someone spilled the beans on them and bought them down to earth.  For you can be sure there are prejudices and opinions held by various royals which would be pretty much offensive in the most liberal of societies.  What an enlightening experience it would be to have an inside view of what goes on?  Then perhaps we'd find out they are just as boring and ignorant as the next person.

One small step after the other

This lunch time was kind of odd.  After going a week of making my own sandwiches I lunched at a Chinese.  It felt like I should of been eating sandwiches again.  Then I began wondering whether making your own is cheaper than purchasing.  For some supermarkets have special deals where a sarney, crisps and a drink can be purchased at the same time for a set price.  My mental calculator began adding up the sums.  If I make my own I get more sandwiches, rather than a packet of crisps I usually have a yogurt then because I have a loaf of bread the same loaf can be used to make toast in the morning for breakfast.  Further if I have cheese sometimes this has a dual use and is eaten in the evening.  So the sandwich filling doesn't just work for lunch, it spreads itself about.  In addition when I make my own sandwiches I've been trying not to hit the pub.  The cost of a pint also has to be offset as another expense not added but rather taken away.  Finally I wondered how come I am watching these small expenses, and it's simple, these little expenses taken over a week mount up. It's a recession and belts have to be pulled tighter than allowed to expand.  Even being employed in a stable job for a long time may come to an end.  It's a matter of time.  On the plus side, my belt may actually get tighter and then my trousers will not feel so uncomfortable.  I  hope so.

This morning I got up early and had a walk before heading off to the Fish Factory.  The idea in my mind was to get the exercise and so burn off calories and get healthier.  The both go hand in hand.  The sun was out and it was hot.  It didn't take long before I was building up a sweat.  However, it was enjoyable.  I was thinking to myself as I walked round the artificial lake in the middle of a urban mulitcomplex 1960s estate how if I could keep calm knowing there was a need to get off to work but not stress about it, I would be in better control of myself.  Because stress is to a degree self expectations.  What I wanted was not so much being controlled by events but rather controlling them.  Perhaps this is the ultimate self realisation, which is being able to wilfully choose how to react and not react.  It's happening a lot, or rather I'm being more and more conscious of it.  People and events can control how we react, refusing to be just a reactive mechanism, staying calm, thinking first is tough, very tough, but it also emotionally and psychologically maturing.  I'm not a saint, I just can't do it at times, but I am working on it.  Just like I'm continually working on my waist line.  A little bit at a time.

Which reminds me of a saying I once heard from a colleague while taking evening classes.  How do you eat an elephant?  A little bit at a time.

Klingon: the way to communicate

The best part of my day has been taking Little Monster Boy out for a bicycle ride.  He is very entertaining and I'm sure he feels the same about me.  He demonstrated his knowledge of Klingon, which probably means he will grow up to be a nerd.  But I don't care, I love him no matter he turns out to be like and enjoy every moment I have with him.  In a similar way this evening I have been chatting to Rock Chick, she's nearly twice as old as Monster Boy and has different concerns.  Dangerous Sports Lad she told me could be getting even lazier than he ever was before, she makes her little moans and groans but she is deliriously happy when she makes them.  She told me how Sparkling Eyes had popped over during the week and given her lots of junk food.  A dozen doughnuts, a multibar packet of chocolate and other such items.  She then went on to moan about work, about the people she sees and one of her work colleagues.  I advised Rock she needs to chill out, these things sounded like they were stressing her out.  Then she tells me she wasn't really stressed out but did like to have a good bitch every now and again.  But I still think she needs to chill out anyway.  All the same Rock Chick is equally funny as Monster Boy but in her own way.  She doesn't know any Klingon, however people tend to confide in her.  She then goes on and spreads the gossip to other people.  It's like she has a desire she can't stop herself from doing.  She just does it and then she laughs.  I said spreading such gossip will eventually mean other people will not want to confide in her.  Except she said she knew but they still did anyway.  At which point she then tried to twist my words round and say I was having a moan about Sparkling Eyes.  Which I wasn't but I have to be careful about because between the pair of them, Sparkling and Rock I could end up being hung for something I hadn't done only to be acquitted afterwards. 

Maybe if I learnt to speak Klingon as well it would solve my problems, then know one would know what I was talking about.  Except of course for Monster Boy.

Seeing a belly in the mirror

I rode my cycle today, with a purpose.  To hit a clothes shop and buy some trousers.  So on my back was a rucksack.  The sun was hard, but there seemed to be a nice breeze as well.  Unlike my usual habit of wearing jeans I was a bit more sensible and wore shorts.  With a t-shirt.  Just so as to keep as cool as possible.  My arms caught the sun and I think my ears might of as well.  While shopping I caught the sight of my figure in a full length mirror and thought to myself it was not a pretty sight.  Where on earth did I get such a belly?  Like it had been transplanted onto me over night.   In reality I know it is the accumulation of too much food.  The more I eat the fatter I get and I have got to somehow try and get a hold of myself.  I've even wondered about checking out diet sites so as to get a plan on what to do.  Yet whatever plan it is, it will be no good unless I am motivated to follow it.  I remember once when I put my mind to it I went and lost 17 pounds in weight, it took about 3 months and it became more an more difficult towards then end.  I just had to work harder, with more and more exercise and much less food.  I have since reverted back to my fat man normal size again.  So whatever it is I have to do would mean a lifestyle change as well.  It's so much effort, especially when I like food as well. 

Tomorrow I'll be back at the Fish Factory.  It seems like everything is just hard going there and no let up.  No release, just incessant fishes all over the place.  It makes me wonder why I'm doing it, what am I doing and I ask why is it those people I manage just don't think for themselves. Well it's not worth a thought now I'd rather have a good night's sleep.  I'm sure when I wake up in the morning my belly will still be there.  Oh for a belly transplant as much as a fish factory personnel transplant as well.

Sun, a beer and a discussion about broken love

The sun is out in all it's glory, it's hot, damn hot, so hot I see a chilli pepper jump into the shade and wipe it's brow.  I think my ears have caught a little sun.  They are bound to go red shortly then burn.  I've worn a short sleeved shirt and my arms have caught it as well.  I can feel a half kind of glow about them.  Luckily I didn't have shorts on because my legs would be flames.  Young men walk about revealing their torsos, six packs, eight packs and carry little pink handbags on their arms.  Maybe not but the narcissistic quality of walking half naked around town does provide an aspect to their psychological profile.  Unless they do it just to cool down, but I'm not sure to tell the truth.  There's something dodgy about it, overtly or subconsciously it holds meaning.  It would be quite a different thing to see fat bellied middle aged men walking about.  For they are quite happy in their sexual preference and they genuinely don't do it because they want to be looked at.  Often it is the opposite, people look away.  So I sat in the sun with Layabout Lad drinking a bottle or two of Bud.

We chatted about stuff.  His is usually the state of mind he is in, and his family life.  He talked about his ex girlfriend who had dumped him a year and a half ago.  How he could not understand or see what was going on.  Still he could not understand his own actions were a large part of it, how he had suffocated her with his feelings.  He admitted at the time the only thing which mattered to him was her.  She was everything.  He wanted to be the perfect boyfriend.  Emotionally he had put all of his eggs in one basket.  Family life does not provide him with the support he needs to understand and see beyond his actions.  We chatted.  I did my best to listen.  To try and put it straight.  Layabout admitted it was the first time he was able to actually chat about it.  Looking back he acknowledged his behaviour had been irrational at times.  There were times when I had invited him out for lunch and he would always ask if he could bring her along.  I always answered he could but deep inside I would cringe because I wanted time with him.  I think I only took them out together once, but there was a sickly feeling as I witnessed an over emotional dependency.  The break up had hurt him badly and even though he now has a new girlfriend there still is some pain.  Once they had departed he told me how his ex immediately went back to enjoying her life, partying and seeing other boys.  While he was grieving over the break up she clearly was not.  It made him bitter.  It was as though his entire life had been on hold and so had every other person and his relationships with them.  Even me, his uncle.  Looking back now he could see this.  He advised me he felt unloved at the time.  I said to him that I loved him.  He looked at me and gave a small smile, and replied along the lines of "no offense, but you don't have tits and are related.  No you do have, but they're man tits."  At which I called him a bastard and said he is due to  get a bitch slapping from me and I'd pretend to be gay and he was my honey.  Uncle knows best how to sort out broken hearted nephews.

The sun beat down and I sipped my Bud.  Layabout told me of his new girlfriend.  Things seemed to be going well and he wanted to take it slowly.  He said although it was a cliche time spent with her went fast.  They get on very well together and he thinks she would like  him to move in with her.  Perhaps a little scary when they have only seen each other twice.  Then sometimes when people meet they can fall in love after a very short time.  Even get married within weeks.  Layabout said how he liked Sparkling Eyes and how she stood up for him when he saw her, it made him laugh to see me get told off.  I remember how he didn't want to leave and even when I had got in the engine of the car was running he still didn't have his socks on or was fully packed.  I told him how I knew Sparkling is the only woman in the world for me.  I knew this because she told me so and told me no other woman would have me, he laughed again.  Sipped his beer and enjoyed the warmth of the sun.

A week of Sandwiches

A day has not gone past without me eating a sandwich for lunch.  There were a few reasons for this.  Firstly I have always eaten food from cafes or restaurants.  I like hot food for lunch.  It's real and substantial and I feel lunch time should really be lunch time.  It should be slowly taken.  In the same way the French treat lunch.  As a very important part of the day.  So I ensure it is an hour long.  As for the hot food there is another disadvantage and this is down to my waist line.  Trousers and jeans are getting tighter than they have been.  I can not even dare to buy anything which is slim fit.  It's the fear if I wore something slim fitted the seams will tear.  Then there I will be walking along with split arsed trousers, showing my pants.  It's not like I wear fancy boxers either, whatever shows will not be a pretty sight.  However, this is the general problem every ever waist increasing person has to deal with.  Next reason is financial.  It costs more money to go into a cafe for a meal and a drink than it does opening up my own sandwich box.  It is surprising how much it costs.  One day after the other, visiting the pub in the evenings doesn't help either, even though I have done my best to have a break from the odd pint as well.  The combination of home made sandwiches and abstinence must of saved a few pennies.  I'm sure it has in all reality.  Financially it has been a five week month to pay day rather than a four week month, so therefore it's been tough.  Fortunately I've come through it and can see the light.  What a relief.

I must admit eating granary bread sandwiches and sometimes up to 8 slices of this bread a day has also been having another effect on my belly.  It feels a lot more settled.  Like life is easier.  It could be I've had more than my fair share of greasy food and sandwiches are a health food kick.  I should stick with them, but watch out for the boredom factor.  Which comes with eating the same ones over and over again.  It's a matter of doing something different but small which changes the sandwich eating experience.  Like chili flakes.  I need to get some, they will give them a little variety.

In London the sun has come out.  Only a couple of weeks ago we were all moaning about how cold it still was, but now it is hot, some places over 26 Celsius.  It's always difficult wondering what to wear.  The Fish Factory has great air conditioning.  So you can go from the feeling of being in the Artic to being in the Sahara when stepping outside.  There is a water feature I see as I commute, it's two large slopes with a walk way in the middle.  Water runs down one slope, then is pumped under the walkway and again goes down the other slope.  It is amazing to see the small children go paddling in this water.  It is barely deep enough to cover the tread on your shoes, so is more like an artificial aquaplane.  The children play football, splash in it, run about and slip over and then get completely wet.  They laugh and their predicament is infectiously funny.  Big smiles abound.  The sun beats down and this water feature is the best place to be in the world for them.  Parents sit at the sides, some may paddle in as well.  Bare footed seeking relief to their sweaty feet.  It certainly has an entertainment factor.  It's the start of summer, and perhaps unlike previous overcast ones this is going to be one scorcher.  Better get my shoes and socks off, take out my sandwiches and chill.

Morning Sandwiches

I made my own sandwiches today.  It may not seem like a big thing but for someone who always eats in cafes or down market restaurants for lunch it is.  In fact it has been so long since I last made my own lunch I can't remember when I last did it.  A long time ago.  It's no longer stored in the part of my brain which holds long term memories.  Sad as it may be, while I made my sandwiches I was unable to put my feet up and enjoy breakfast.  Which had to be eaten at the same time I made them.  Yes, the quality time I'd just sit on my backside and take it easy was taken up by sandwich making.

The supplies I got for my sarnies cost a little.  To recuperate this I am now obliged to make them at least three times this week otherwise it would of been more expensive.  I even decided to give the pub a miss this evening just so the expense ratio would come down a little quicker.  If I carry on like this it will not be long before I am the sandwich king.  I once read a book where an enterprising person retired from work to make sandwiches for his own organization.  He happened to be an accountant and had regularly collected statistics on lunch time habits.  Come to think of it, he was probably made redundant.  To make his business work he sold as cheaply as he could and operated an honest box system.  Of all persons paying for their sarnies he found those who earned the most were less likely to put money in the honesty box.  The rich were therefore rich for a reason, they engaged in petty criminal behaviour.  Unlike the fat cat bankers of the UK who engaged in large scale just under the net fraud to bring the UK to its knees.  A sandwich is not just a meal to some people.  It's an indicator of honesty.

Somehow tomorrow I'm going to have to do it all over again.  Tomorrow the cost of sandwich materials would of dropped to half of what it cost today, so the incentive is pretty high.  As a secondary incentive I'm hoping these morsels will help me in my own quest to lose a little weight.  But I must admit when I got home this evening I was very tired and had to lay on the bed for a half hour catch up cat nap.  Those cats are so lucky.  I must learn how to sleep and appear to be working.  Match sticks under the eyelids perhaps.  Sandwich in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.  OK better hit the hay, things to do in the morn.  Bread to be spread filling to be laid and Tupperware lids to be sealed.

Tinnitus my friend

Some years ago while sitting at a computer and industriously working, at the Fish Factory.  I heard this high pitch sound.  It was like one of the computers on the factory floor wasn't quite working properly.  Most people had left by this time of the evening so there was just myself there.  I then got bugged by this noise, it was annoying.  so I got up out of my seat and tried to find which computer had not been turned off correctly.  There were some monitors still running so I switched them off, and there was the odd computer as well, but before I switched the computers off I stuck my head next to them to try and detect whether it was the same high pitched noise.  Nope.  I was walking some way from my own workstation and then thought whichever device it was must now be switched off, although I wasn't quite sure.  The head test had proved to be negative each time.  I sat down and began work again.  After a few minutes I realised the sound was still there.  I turned my head to the left and to the right.  I couldn't tell where it was coming from.  At which point I wondered whether it was me, my hearing?

It took some time to realise it because I was most part in denial about the whole high pitched buzzing noise.  If I concentrated by listening to other stuff it would kind of go away.  Yet it always returned.  Sometimes it was there sometimes it was not.  Kind of intermittent.  I'd heard of tinnitus before because of documentaries on TV or health items.  It then dawned on me I had tinnitus.  I haven't been to see my GP and have considered my own self diagnosis as accurate.  I know what high blood pressure sounds like and it's not the same.  Tinnitus comes even when I'm completely relaxed.  It's like my head is going to explode at some time.  I'll tell you when it happens.  It has been a nuisance and irritated me, but I am lucky enough to be able to distract myself from it.  It was when I began to see it as a friend, to accept it was there it became easier to deal with.  I'd purposefully try and tune into it.  The noise is constant, the same very high pitched screech, something akin to what a dog whistle would sound like if the human ear was able to detect it.  Other times it sounds like rain in the distance or an old TV not quite tuned in.  I can focus on it and accept it.  It can even help me sleep.  I know this is an odd thing to say but it's true.  It has and is on occasions a useful ally to have in the hum drum of vicarious noises.

I do have problems concentrating at times.  I like quiet environments when I'm doing something complex and can't understand how some people can concentrate while all around them are making a lot of noise.  I know it is a matter of attitude.  If the environment is noisy it doesn't help getting uptight about it.  I just wonder off and make a cup of tea, or decide to do something else which doesn't require me to spend as much brain power on it.  I'm not sure if this is because of the tinnitus or not, I just know I can achieve more when relaxed and undisturbed.  Hence also how it can help me sleep.

I think it could be a function of old age, but on my days off work, just after lunch I can sit in a comfy chair, put my head back and fall to sleep.  This can be anything from ten minutes to an hour.  The TV can be on and it will not matter.  It's as though my body is feeling so tired it just has to take a nap.  It really is a shame there are not special seats set aside where this can be done in workplaces.  For after my nap I then am fully awake and alert.  Though today I could easily have slept for a couple of hours.  It may be related to not getting a full night's sleep in the first place.  Sometimes less than six hours.  It all depends on a lot of factors.  Right now I can hear the distant fall or rain in my left ear, it's not raining of course.  In my right ear there is a high pitch whistle.  The computer is also standing on my right side so it is likely to be a complimentary tinnitus effect.

My friend tinnitus, my friend.  You are with me and you are not going away.  Well not for the moment.  Sometimes he does which is nice for the time, then he returns again.  I greet him and listen to what he has to say.  Now if only I can learn his language.

Nasty thing called text enhance and some silver paint

For some completely unknown reason words I typed began to have links attached to them.  I don't know how this happened but a nasty little piece of software called "text enhancer" had somehow got installed on my PC.  I wouldn't mind, it was like someone on my shoulder was adding advertisements all over the place.  I would then go and re edit the post removing the word with another similar word.  But this recalcitrant little bugger would come back again and underline a different word.  It seemed I was losing the war, until I did a search on Google to find out what the thing was.  Then I found a video on YouTube and after watching this it only took a couple of minutes or less to get rid of the thing.  It was a complete imposition and in my mind completely illegal.  I didn't ask for it, want it or understand how it had got on my PC.  I run an anti virus software program and Superanitspyware but neither seemed to do the trick.  The video I saw indicated this is a program which attaches itself to your browser.  If I were a programming genius this would be the kind of thing I'd track down and find a way of attacking by my own super powered piece of software.  The company who produced it would be in big trouble.  How can they think it is legal to invade another person's intellectual property with their adverts?  Which is the problem, they don't think.  If I were a multimillionaire I'd have my high powered hot shot legal team on to it.  I'd be lobbying government.  All I can say, is, whoever you are you nasty "text enhance" people you're bloody lucking I'm none of the above.

On a slightly different note.  Sparkling has got her hands on a pot of silver paint.  Which means anything not moving is getting painted silver.  She seems to be deliriously happy about this as well.  A door, plant pot, wall heater and chicken shaped earthen ware have all been given the silver treatment.  Maybe I should ask Sparkling if she'd like to do some text as well.  I advised she go into the garden and take a couple of deep breaths outside.  Just in case it is something to do with the paint fumes.  She did complain of feeling slightly light headed.  Or dizzy, or both.  Maybe it's a painting high, a bit like an exercise high which I've not had for a long time.  I exercise my right not to exercise.  But I to am deliriously happy as well, because Sparkling is in my life awe.  Not because I like silver paint although it's a good reason to have glasses with reactive lenses in such circumstances.

Dieting is difficult

I can't help eating, in fact it is one of the things I like to do, eat.  The way I'm going I'll be one of the real tubbies you see on TV in a few years time.  But it's difficult.  It could be there is a part of my brain which has not been wired right.  Unfortunately this would be a recent event and I must say I haven't been on an operating table having a bit of brain surgery either.  Maybe it's a chemical thing.  I just need the right chemicals and my body is craving for me to eat something which it wants.  Today I had pie and chips for lunch.  I got  home and then had a piece of blackcurrant pie, a steak and kidney pie, a packet of crisps, a strawberry donought, another packet of crisps and two cups of tea.  The tea went down nicely as well.  But the junk food was there, on the side.  It was there so I ate it.  If it weren't there then I wouldn't eat it.  But I did and it is too late now because it's already in my belly mostly digested and working it's way around my waist.  Another inch on.  It only took half an hour to consume at a leisurely pace.  There seems to be no way out, no solution.  I know what I've got to do.  Change my eating habits and change my lifestyle.  Such easy words to say, but when temptation is put right in your face it's difficult to restrain.  My resistance is futile.  Help, someone help.

Breakfast tomorrow.  Think I'll lay of the pies, one piece of toast and a cup of tea, I hope.

Connected again

Well it's happened, three weeks and a new hard disk later and I have managed to get connected again.  Here at last.  There were days when I was dying to write a BLOG, but just had to hold it all in and do nothing about it.  Now I can begin over again.  Writing these things had become quite a habit and enjoyable.  In a few days time I'll get back into the groove all over again.  The world is my oyster as far as expressing myself.  I can feel sun on my face and it makes me glow with happiness.  Nearly as much as when I'm in Sparkling's company.  Which is something.  But things have changed.  The break has done me good.  It has given me a chance to actually use my time wisely.  To not become a hermit to this study room.  I've picked up books and began reading all over again.  Yes, I can actually read.  I've also got back into doing some study for myself, bits and pieces, things I am interested in.  During this I realized I will be studying for the rest of my life.  It's a certainty.  This old computer with a new memory (hardisk) has got old life in it yet.  It's a little faster, but it is also not quite itself and doesn't work as good.  Prone to intermittent internet connection and the browser dying for no reason.  Well I suppose if I was given a new hypocampus I'd be acting funny as well.  (Hypocampus - part of brain which holds the oldest memories).  It's working and this is really all what matters.  In the meantime I'm looking for a new ISP (internet service provider) being as I'm more than fed up with the one I have got.  Something to moan about in BLOG land.

So for now tata TTFN.  Back soon.  Gone out for lunch. 

No blooming internet, so what about life

I got no internet so it is like having my legs cut off.  I can't BLOG either, I've been cut off proper.  All because a hard disc would not boot. But I've been getting over it. 

Yep, I've taught myself to read again.  It's quite surprising how flicking the pages of a book can pass the time.  I will admit to watching a bit more TV as well, but I am keeping an eye on it.  Lastly worst of all I've been communicating more, ringing Sparkling or anyone else who I happen to know.  Which isn't really that many people.  I've been going to see Little Monster Boy as well and chatting to him. His view of the world is always wonderful, presently it seems to be based on football.  But I can put up with it.  His laughter vanishes those little things away.

So life has definitely changed a little. 

Can a man ever keep up with a woman's multitasking?

It's been a wet and miserable day.  I can't say I've seen any sunshine, although it may have popped it's head around the corner when I wasn't looking.  So it's been a lazy day and Sparkling has had me doing those little jobs.  However, for Sparkling it is not good enough to do one job and then start another.  Like a man would do, because of course we can not multitask.  We prefer to do one job and do it properly, but I will admit I do get distracted. 

It should of been as no surprise I would be given four tasks at the same time, however, my radar alert system was down and I hadn't been in the land of Sparkle's mind for a while.  So as I started one job and was in the middle of concentrating my effort, Sparkles would then give me the second job.  This came with occasional quips of why hadn't I finished the one I'd started earlier.  Typical I wasn't up to the expected standard.  Lets face it a woman wants a man to be expert in everything but most importantly the better expert at mind reading.  Sparkles accused me of not being focused on the task. job in hand.  Although I was being thrown from one thing to the next, this wasn't all.  Additionally while doing these tasks I had to tackle the inevitable boobie trap.  Just like a bank robber stealing a million only to find as he flicks through the first bundle of cash an explosive dye goes up in his face.  For example I was given a staple gun, barely used in it's lovely newish box and had pin some items on a wall.  I couldn't puzzle out why a stapler was only shooting off single pins rather than the staples I'd put in it.  I'd asked Sparkles if she had loaded any other staples into it and she gave me the typical shaken head and denial of no she hadn't and didn't know what I was talking about.  Being a male it's very easy to assume this is the truth.  Wrong, what shaking head meant was, she couldn't remember or she had actually put some staples in the gun and had used it but it was perfectly new and I should be able to work out what had happened.  This is a small assumption hurdle.  I had assumed, something which should take only a few minutes would take longer.   Half an hour of head scratching and scanning the instructions with a microscope was needed.  Of course the instructions don't tell you what to do when something goes wrong.  This is a talent a man has gain.  It takes time, patience and an insight into the unknown mind of a woman.  I should memo myself to always be careful and considerate of the information I'm given, which may not be the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  To understand I have to get on with it and sort it out.  Then I could argue if it wasn't for such trials life would be dull. Sparkling makes sure my life is full of excitement like this.
In another little task Sparkles had me looking into was the ins and outs of pensions.  Like most people I'm the kind who put's their head in the sand and hopes it will all be OK in the end.  If pensions were so important they should of been something you'd learn about at school.  In fact now as I think about it, anything taught at school didn't really help in normal life, OK the reading and math may have helped a little but the other important stuff was missed, e.g. the economics of every day life.  Nope no lessons in that one.  So I searched the Internet and read of to Sparkles what her second pension was all about.  I learnt from it as well.  However, Sparkles first impulse was to request my help on pensions when I was in the process of intoxication.  Three lagers and a packet of crisps followed by "you need to tell me what all this pension things mean."  Followed by waving of official papers in front of my face and "see, read this."  Well it didn't happen not even with the offer of crisps and dip to follow the lagers.  Somethings have got to be done with a clear head.

To answer the question, can a man ever keep up with a woman's multitasking?  The answer can only be no.  This is because we can not simply multitask in the way a woman does.  The ability is just not there.  I have to know what it is I am trying to do, then it doesn't make me any better at decision making.  If men were better at decision making it would only be with the help of a interpreter.  Not a language one, one who can understand women, because I'm certainly having my problems.  Hmm I wonder if there's a phrase book on Amazon?

Is it an allergy or is it me

I'm up north again in Sparkling's company.  She's had two allergic reactions which have bought her out in hives.  She's said she is allergic to me.  The first occasion it happened I called the emergency services, it was fifty, fifty whether Sparkling should go to the hospital and she decided not to this time.  The second time it happened was this morning and Sparkles had not eaten anything.  It was delayed by about 9 hours from the first episode.  She hadn't eaten and it was only me who she had been in contact with.  In an hour or so it had passed and the hives subsided enough for Sparkles to head into work. There was no further problem and the day passed with Sparkles eating boiled potatoes and cucumber.  Hardly any chance of a reaction to them.  One epipen used and two on standby.  Thing is Sparkles has not eaten anything I have made so this would mean if she is allergic to something it could be me.  I hope to think not because of me.  It just happens I happen to be around when it happens. 

This evening as I went out to the shops I asked Sparkles if she wanted anything?  Her reply was along the lines of:  A blond, six foot seven, who is good at plumbing, gardening, likes washing up and has a foot fetish so he can do her feet.  I wondered for a moment exactly what isle I'd find this man and asked whether it would be in the fresh produce section.  Sparkling said "no!" quite loudly and answered just as emphatically "in the meat section! Meat."  I asked if he wasn't available would an alternative do and tried to stat describing myself, which was interrupted as she said "no, if I can't have the meat I don't want the salami."  Wonderful, because Sparkles has got an allergy to me she's on the look out for an alternative.  I need to grow another foot taller, dye my hair, get muscles and take up plumbing.

Lucky I don't have any allergies.

Don't smack those electrical things

My desktop computer is on the blink. Last night it hung and repeatedly I turned it off then on.  It tried to reboot but got stuck again.  Then it went to the black screen which gives you options to safe boot.  I tried and nothing happened.  I think it's getting hot or old or both.  Hot and old and reluctant to move.  I'm sure though it is all software related, or mostly software related.  So this evening I turn it on and re tried it.  Two boots and it works.  When I say boots I don't mean I gave it a kicking with a pair of steal toe caps.  If only I did have steal toe caps then I would of given it one.  So for the moment it is OK.  Temporarily OK and then it will be crunch time again and I will have to start all over to get it working.  It may need reformatting and windows re loaded.  Last time this happened I just loaded windows back on top again and hoped the thing would work.  It did.  That was about 4 months ago, so now it's becoming a hassle.  Maybe I shouldn't of nudged it by accident the other night, it was then it began playing up.  Worse than a two year old.  It's probably about 8 years old.  But it's done well and I've loved it.  When it's worked of course.

Another day has gone past and although I've sent a text to Sparkling she has not replied.  I think her phone is on the blink as well.  I spoke to her yesterday and she said she never received yesterday's message.  Maybe she needs to delete some of the old messages in her phone and then it will work.  There seems to be something up with electronic devices at the moment.  One after the other they are failing, particularly failing or just being pedantic little characters, seeing if they can test your patience.  The thing is no matter how frustrated you get it doesn't help letting the red devil out of the back and giving them a good thumping.  Circuit boards have an aversion to being knocked about.  It's not like the good old days when your parent would go up to the bulky black and white TV and with a tensed fist hit it on top.  There's a number of black and whites which were sent to electronic heaven.  If not the tip.  Yet others did actually respond to this treatment.  For a short while.  They probably knew what was in store for them if they continued to fail.  Cussing doesn't have any effect on them either.  Maybe it's an omen we should all go back to pen and paper.  Or is it chalk board.  Maybe we should all communicate more rather than watch TV.  Talk to each other than seek refuge in the dumb box, or dumb monitor.  Making us even dumber.  Sounds a little like a Jim Carey film.  No?  Well it's either us who have to change or it's the electronic devices.  I get to the point of giving up and then pick up a book.  Yep.  I'm then forced to read something and be active. 

Mind the main reason I wanted my PC to actually work was to write a blog.  I've done one each evening for the last few days and now it's like wondering how many days I can do it in a row before missing one out.  I'm on a roll.  Not to be confused with rolling a PC down a hill to see how fast it gets to the bottom.  This thing certainly wouldn't get far.  But it has served me well.  The one thing I can say is it has been loyal.  Then it is an inanimate object, eats electricity and is regularly attended by a human being.  So why the bloody ell is it playing up now?  I give you everything and now you act like this.  Calm down.  It's inanimate.  It can't feel, because if it did it would soon feel my boot up it's arse.  Lucky thing.

Tourettes with biscuits instead

I was listening to the serious morning radio news and interview show called the Today program when an article come up about tourettes.  A woman who had this illness was interviewed.  The typical impression I get from tourettes is of someone who can not help themselves but swear every few words while talking.  It's involuntary, lend itself to comedy sketches and always leaves you wondering if these people are really ill or whether it is an excuse to swear out loud all the time.  I know the odd person who can't help themselves by swearing incessantly either.  However, those persons do it consciously.  In fact I myself have had this tendency on a temporary basis as well.  So the interview began, of course I knew it must of been recorded and expected there to be a few hundred bleeps all the way through it.  But there wasn't.  There was maybe one bleep.  For this woman's tourettes was not centred on swearing, she had replace the F-word with "biscuits,"  very odd.  There were other involuntary intrusions in her speech one was "cake."  It turns out from what she informed the listener only about ten per cent of tourettes sufferers do actually swear.  Well all I could think was there must be a hell of a lot of them because those are the ones who usually get all the publicity.  For biscuits certainly doesn't sound as offensive as the F-word.  I mean.  If I were to hit my finger or thumb even with a hammer while doing some hammering I don't think I would shout out biscuits.  Biscuits just doesn't cut the mustard, it doesn't carry the gravitas, the impact the frank and shocking retort as the F-word does.  So personally my choice would be the F-word.  Which you could saw was a reactive form of tourettes, a temporary an necessary form which a great many people in the world do have, temporary tourettes syndrome.  Bought on by accidents and unforeseen events.  That's life, or the F-word.

However, even if the F-word may have an omission in the majority of tourettes cases it doesn't mean it is out of fashion.  No.  It is something which has to be used wisely and when impact is necessary.  I recall when as I child we moved house, I attended a different primary school and then went on to secondary.  I had not actually heard a swear word I believe, not in real life until I was ten or eleven years old.  More likely eleven.  I had a crazy family but swearing wasn't part of home life.  Things happened at home but the F-Word didn't.  So at this young age I encountered another young lad who did actually swear.  His swearing rolled off his tongue with such ease.  He didn't say it emphatically because he'd just hit his thumb, broken a finger or had tourettes, he swore without any hard emotional meaning.  I was miffed.  I could understand what he was saying but couldn't understand why he had a need he should swear.  What did it mean?  He was also one of the smokers, those who thought they were more mature and went behind the cycle sheds or the back of the school or just outside the grounds of the school to have a crafty fag.  Smoking put these kids in a league of their own.  They didn't consider stunted growth or lung disease was anything for them to worry about and swearing was a common part of the communication with everyone else.  So not to feel left out of the in-crowd a lot of other kids would also do their bit and swear as well.  We were rebels.  No, saying that it was a hard school, most kids came from working class poor families.  School like it is nowadays was more of adult supervision while parents went to work.  Glorified baby sitting by any other name.  The notion of exams to get a career was preposterous, it was leave school and go to work.  Of course the one thing most of us didn't do was swear at home, because it would of resulted in instant and immediate physical assault.  Who said kids don't learn from punishment most likely hadn't had a slapping from the hand of a working class mother.  It certainly did knock some sense into you, that and having no choice but watching soaps on TV every night.  I regress.  Lets just say swearing was not a consideration when life was hard enough by itself.  I learn late, and so now only save my F-words for special occasions.

On occasions though when my self conscious radar kicks in and I realise I am swearing I then substitute the F-word for my very own adopted not tourettes word.  It also is related to food and is "sugar," I can say it without causing any offence and I know in normal cicumstances were I allowed by my Super-ego I'd be saying the F-word.  What I have learnt in my late learner style is the F word does have a place and is a necessity, if not for the ten percent tourettes population it does for those of us who occasionaly have impulsive behaviour as well.  It certainly doesn't take the biscuit, that's for sure.

It's all about perception, not reality

Given the ongoing inability to get access to the Internet the laptop purchase has a temporary home with Layabout and family.  I think the term laptop is a misnomer and it should be called a desktop.  A portable desktop.  My idea of what a laptop is against the reality is two different things.  A little like the weather.  It's April and the temperature has dropped, it's also been raining.  Rain makes sense but to wake up and find there is frost on the grass is quite a different expectation.  It's certainly all down to expectation.  The laptop is just like frost in April, it's out of place with expectations.  Unless there is something wrong with my perceptions.  I don't know is all I can say for now.

I've been thinking recently about a subject which would be good to write about.  Good because I find it easy.  However at the same time I have wondered whether I am qualified.  It's a bit like a discussion I've had with L & B man.  He has advised about a manager who has bought into play a new way of working.  This is in line with what is called LEAN.  LEAN is not just a management method, it's a completely different way of seeing the world in a workplace situation.  The individual who had bought in this LEAN methodology I am sure had not been personally trained by the Japanese, he had used it before in a different organization.  I'm guessing what he did was sell it when he had an interview.  This is called 'solution selling.'  Where as an interviewee you bring into the arena a solution the interviewers get hooked on.  It's done by researching an organization, finding out what the problems of the organization are and then when attending the interview present a solution to their problems.  Hence solution selling.  In the end it gets the job, and is likely to be something which more middle to higher managers could do.  For management is a woolly thing, anyone can do it, but can anyone do it well?  I think not.  However, everyone does think they do it well.  The individual in question sold himself in the interview and pointed out they had experience in bringing in LEAN management methods in other organizations.  They sold themselves therefore on a second front, as a pseudo expert.  Further anyone into LEAN management speak like to think they know it all.  There is so much to it, it would be impossible to know it all, however, management is more than just understanding what a Zeitgeist movement is, it's about handling people as well as many other softer, woollier skill sets.  I've really detracted here from the subject I was thinking of writing about because it is nothing to do with LEAN, and this was just an example.  Further I don't want to actually say what it is.  It's like telling everyone you are going on a diet to lose weight, immediately telling a host of people means you're doomed to failure.  Not that I'd go to a weight watchers club and say I was there for the fun of it, which would be a bit perverse.  So I'll not say what it is I want to write about but will skirt around the subject.

So using all these examples.  The interview panel perceived an interviewee was capable of being a manager because he sold them a solution but the reality was he probably had little training at all and might of read an article in the Reader's Digest.  The result was he got the job and a lovely salary to go with it.  He also gets to play in an organization at showing he knows something, when he knows his perception of something, not the actual thing (LEAN).  When I bought my laptop come tabletop computer my view was of a device I could use on the Internet, a device which was portable and with a keyboard which lent it to typing more than any other item available on the market.  I'd hoped it would not be too heavy either.  The reality against my perception is a kitchen sink with taps on it.  Lastly, we may all consider April as a Spring month the reality is we are put out of place because it's not what it says on the tin.  Not so far anyway.  These three scenarios have all produced mismatches and so likely disappointments.  The only way to combat these items now is to amend those perceptions which were in place at the start. 

Therefore it is about how we see the world, I perceive therefore I see.  When it should be I see and now I perceive.  If anyone has understood this then they deserve a medal.  Something wrapped in silver foil with chocolate on the inside.

Windows 7 doesn't support USB internet connection

Well continuing with the laptop saga, it seems I may have a problem.  The laptop is new and the operation system is Windows 7.  Hmmm. in normal circumstances I might drool hearing this, but I'm beginning to think the thing is never going to get connected to the Internet.  For my connection is via a USB rooter and after a trawl on Google it looks like Windows 7 does not support physical connections to USB rooters.  This is a typical failure of bringing together old and new technology.  They just don't mix.  They are like oil and water.  In fact I'd probably get more response from throw a bucket of water over the whole thing.  The bottom line looks to be I have to get into the twentieth century and find out what wireless connections are all about.  What a bloody palaver.  A thing which should be simple is turning out not to be so simple after all. 

If it carries on at this rate I'll have to put an ad in the local rag.  One unused laptop, one frustrated owner, Internet not included but does have a batter.

Thoughts on a laptop

I've got my first ever laptop, it arrived today.  I wish I had got home earlier to see it.  Opening up a box is exciting, but I'm not too sure about it.  For although the box opening was a minor thrill, the event isn't as wonderful as I might of hoped.  I'm not sure if it is the product or I just see the whole thing as more of an everyday tool and nothing to write home about.  It's like having a movie on TV, but the movie requires your full attention because it's deep but you just don't have a deep head on, you're in the frame of mind for a no brainier.  It's not satisfying at this moment, even though the movie could be the best ever.  It just doesn't fit your present frame of mind and expectations.  Not only this, the laptop is more like a table top than a lap top.  My laptop man bag I bought a year ago can only accommodate the thing at a stretch.

Maybe I didn't consider fully why I got the thing in the first place?  The reason for getting it was to write and as a study aid, it's not for entertainment although the first thing I have done is load several gig of music on it.  I've also put Open Office but not loaded the program.  So at the moment I'm trying to figure out what I've done, why I've done it and if my mind will change at some other time.  Perhaps I am going through a change, or have gone through a change and no longer value material things as important. It is really a tool, this is the primary reason I have it.  If I were at work I'd treat it with the same curiosity, where tools are used to get things done, not for their appearance, beauty or aesthetics.

I'm sure this thing has a purpose and I will get used to it,  but not at this moment.  Unless I've got the wrong laptop and should of got something smaller.  Thing is it's all in the keyboard and the key actions, this is the reason why I got this particular brand it's known for the keyboard.  I don't need a monitor as big as it is, but at the same time if I'd got a smaller version then the keyboard would of been smaller as well.  The trade off doesn't work.  I want a full size keyboard, however, then if I got a full size keyboard it would never fit in a laptop bag.  It would be worse than lugging a kitchen sink around with me.  No bag would take it.  I'm now left with no choice but to put up with the thing for a few weeks.  Test drive it and see how I get on with it, otherwise it could be loaned out on a semi permanent basis.  Monster Boy and Layabout would certainly make use of it.  Then if they had their hands on it, it would never be the same again.  Laptops are personal to this extent.

I know, maybe I just need to hit the stationary shop and purchase another notepad.  I like paper pads with lines.  Coloured pens and highlighters never fail to create dilated pupils.  Like the Stones song goes, you don't always get what you want, but you get what you need.  I'll change my name to Mick and try a little shuffle dance in tight jeans.  No, better stick with the laptop at least it will not result in my thorax being squeezed like a a wasp's.