I do find that New year posts tend to demand a thoughtfulness that I'm not prepared to give them. Retrospect is another of my weaknessess - I tend to disapprove of stories (repotage) and roar with laughter at annecdotes (and the racconteur). If it doesn't have a punchline dearie, don't bother (as I'm sure some Oscar Wile obsessed teen queen / pop star once lisped)
Of course the blog hasn't had an annecdote in an absolute age - which is why I'm rather looking forward to a whole new batch of tests in the New Year. All routine - but all neccessitating my meeting a fresh bunch of people, in stressful circumstance over a long enough period of time to cast them in my mind and give them lines to say that might not be accurate but are always truthful.
I've spent much of the morning trawling through the UK Pantomime scene - looking for John Inman, Christopher Biggins and of course - The Krankies. The Krankies are in Darlington this year (again) and will be glad of the work as television bookings for aging men married to midgets who dress up as small boys (only to be regularly 'put across my knee and spanked') are now few and far between. Though a small tweak to the act could see them pulling in $1,000s online.
Fot those as obsessed with UK D list celebrity as me here are some of this year's choicest panto pairings...
Sylvester (Dr Who 7) McCoy is in Reading with Christopher Lillicrap and a panda named LuLu... also it's not LuLu in blackface but who knows, maybe a special guest appearance????
Paul (Hi De Hi) Shane is with Michelle ('Allo 'Allo) Hodges in Peterborough proving that you can dine out off a catchphrase forever - Matt Lucas is this your future?
Gary Wilmott is with ex boyband star Lee Brennon in Derby
Linda (80s page 3 girl) Lusardi is with Leslie (Eastender, murderer and flasher) Grantham in Plymouth... Ladrokes are taking bets as to whether he'll kill her or F#%k her
Darren (living in my car these days) Day is in Billingham... they deserve each other
Toyah (it's a myth-stery) Wilcox is in Brighton... she used to be in Jarman movies, hoiw did that happen
Hunter from Gladiators is in Hastings - makes a change from being in Ulrika Johnnson I guess
Cannon and (Born again Xtian) Ball join Paul (70s sex symbol) Nicholas in Wescliffe on sea
Lisa (fat bird from Emmerdale who took over from Jeremy Beadle) Riley is ensuring the theatre looks full even before the concessions bus arrives lf in Southsea
Keith Harris brings green duck Orville and phlegmy monkey Cuddles to Fareham... hilarity will fail to ensue
The Fonz himself (Henry Winkler) joins wanna be Freddie Star impersonator Bobby Davro in Wimbledon...
Ruth Maddock (she's welsh by all accounts) is in Bath
joe pasquale will be squeaking his way through a 20 year old routine in Bristol
Bernie (the fattest) Nolan will be in the mood for dancing in Croydon
Whilst over in Guildford Stephanie Beecham will be trotting out her 'poor man's Joan Collins' schtick
Sadder still Patrick (Bobby Ewing) Duffy will be oiling himself up and greasing his way through Cinderella over in Woking - not how he expected his foray into theatre to end I would imagine
Lesley (isn't it funny when I play a grasping jew / elderly nympho?) Joseph joins some bloke from long defunct kids show Crackerjack ('Crackerjack!') in Wolverhampton.
Melvyn Hayes (It's aint half hot mum / bananaman) proves that Panto is an art over at worthing - catch him if you can
Even if it means missing the ginger duo of sonia and mark curry in horsham
I have to stop before I explode with the sheer awfulness of it all... I'd head down to Horsham - ginger wigs in hand and shout 'Where's Russ Abbott?' all the way through the first act - if I were you (this is a viewing suggestion only)
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Saturday, December 30, 2006
I went b/w picture crazy today
Slowly getting the hang of the manual settings on my camera.
This wasn't the best picture but it's the most personal
Tried to join 2 'meet-up' groups too - one digital photography, the other a lighting and model group. Worried that the second will be perverts and / or camera snobs. First shoot is miles north of here - under a waterfall - in January (*!#!) We shall see
Friday, December 29, 2006
What a gay day (Pt. MCMXXVII)
Started the day with a one2one Pilates session. Much more variety today and just in time I was beginning to suspect that Pilates was little more than the ‘art of sucking in your stomach’. To be sure a useful art to master, especially as the oldest and heaviest resident of Williamsburg, but not really worth the $5k a year I’m going to be blowing on sessions. Luckily today was much better, more variety in the exercises, a noticeable improvement in the strength and flexibility of my upper spine and some real pain to boot. I felt so good afterwards I showered at the gym (always a brave choice with so many fit but unhygienic young souls around) – I’ll expect the athlete’s foot any day now.
I followed the gym with a Deep Tissue, Hot Stone massage – part relaxation, part torture as the questionable ethos of Bikram Yoga (your muscles will be more stretchy if you only do the exercise in a room heated to almost unbearable) are applied to massage and scalding rocks are placed on ‘muscle knots’ in a bid to have them gentle ease themselves enough to be mercilessly worked by the bullet knuckled masseur.
The afternoon was spent voting on the best 100 Nudes on flickr. You get to hit the best 100 by challenging an existing pic on the Hot 100 and having the members vote you in. I said yes to anything that looked dark and sumptuous and no to the pictures with distracting genitalia.
Easy viewing of my flickr pics can now be found here http://www.flickr.com/photos/stevenjude/
They’re not great pics yet but I promise to edit more tightly going forward and to only use the MANUAL setting on my camera unless speed demands that I do otherwise.
Right now I’m off to drink the wine that Jude described as tasting like “a dehydrated tramp’s piss – only less alcoholic.”… she is a charmer.
I followed the gym with a Deep Tissue, Hot Stone massage – part relaxation, part torture as the questionable ethos of Bikram Yoga (your muscles will be more stretchy if you only do the exercise in a room heated to almost unbearable) are applied to massage and scalding rocks are placed on ‘muscle knots’ in a bid to have them gentle ease themselves enough to be mercilessly worked by the bullet knuckled masseur.
The afternoon was spent voting on the best 100 Nudes on flickr. You get to hit the best 100 by challenging an existing pic on the Hot 100 and having the members vote you in. I said yes to anything that looked dark and sumptuous and no to the pictures with distracting genitalia.
Easy viewing of my flickr pics can now be found here http://www.flickr.com/photos/stevenjude/
They’re not great pics yet but I promise to edit more tightly going forward and to only use the MANUAL setting on my camera unless speed demands that I do otherwise.
Right now I’m off to drink the wine that Jude described as tasting like “a dehydrated tramp’s piss – only less alcoholic.”… she is a charmer.
Real terror
So over the past 6 weeks or so I've been gaining weight. Not a great deal of weight but enough to worry me for all kinds of reasons. Having once been described as 'The Oprah Winfrey' of advertising by a friend who I saw only occasionally (and who always wondered whether e was goingto be meeting Karen Carpenter or Ten Tonne Tesse) I know swings in weight but the latest is the most baffling as all of my clothes still seem to fit and I don't feel utter revulsion at my reflection (unless of course it's my reflection in a harshly lit changing room mirror - why do they do that?)
So let's put half of the weight gain down to my love of alcohol, chocolate chip cookies and my latte habit. Why only half? Because I've cut down on those things since my weight was static that's why - and because I refuse to allow the creeping of the scales towards their maximum to be anything other than dread disease or personal triumph.
In my mind the other half of the gain will be down to one of two things. Muscle weight (I have been going to the gym more often) or tumor weight (I am due a cancer relapse). Trouble is that I haven't been going to the gym THAT hard and I was given an all clear from cancer only 3 months ago (I have new scans due in a couple of weeks I think) meaning that unless the tumors are growing at a rate unheard of since sea monkies first burst onto the scene it's not that either.
Of course until I have my next scan I'm going to imagine it is.
Anyway a mystery worthy of Jessica Fletcher... meanwhile I'm back off to the gym in a bid to sweat off some poundage.
So let's put half of the weight gain down to my love of alcohol, chocolate chip cookies and my latte habit. Why only half? Because I've cut down on those things since my weight was static that's why - and because I refuse to allow the creeping of the scales towards their maximum to be anything other than dread disease or personal triumph.
In my mind the other half of the gain will be down to one of two things. Muscle weight (I have been going to the gym more often) or tumor weight (I am due a cancer relapse). Trouble is that I haven't been going to the gym THAT hard and I was given an all clear from cancer only 3 months ago (I have new scans due in a couple of weeks I think) meaning that unless the tumors are growing at a rate unheard of since sea monkies first burst onto the scene it's not that either.
Of course until I have my next scan I'm going to imagine it is.
Anyway a mystery worthy of Jessica Fletcher... meanwhile I'm back off to the gym in a bid to sweat off some poundage.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
The missing resolution
I want to take the photography much more seriously this year - fewer snapshots and a whole lot more style.
I'll start by taking a shot of the umpteen concrete mixers outside of the house (they're building 5 new condo buildings on my street alone) - from the 5th floor I'm sure I can make it look like 'toytown construction'
That's all - just a check in
I'll start by taking a shot of the umpteen concrete mixers outside of the house (they're building 5 new condo buildings on my street alone) - from the 5th floor I'm sure I can make it look like 'toytown construction'
That's all - just a check in
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Resolutions
I don't usually make resolutions - let alone public resolutions. I find thas as a person I'm far from resolute. Vague internal half promises I'm good at - plans of action I'm not. I'm more of a 'this year I'll deal with shit as it happens' kind of a person.
But 2007 is a year that I didn't expect to see and it's a year where I find myself sans excuses. So here goes.
This is the year where I'm going to work up a sweat at least once a day. A year in which I start to enjoy physicality and to really push myself.
This year will see me in the best shape of my life. I'll continue with the pilates and throw in some extra gym sessions each week. It's going to be the year where summer is spent shirtless and shameless.
This is the year where I make an effort to actually learn Dutch. I have the Rosetta Stone manual - all I need now is a bucket of phlegm (you need it, believe me) and and hour a day. That I can do.
This is the year where I start cooking again. In Australia what I tended to eat was natural, healthy and unprocessed. I've let that go - and having helped out a little with 'real food' over Xmas I want to get back to it. Bye bye shopping once a month - hello shopping once a day.
This is the year when I take a couple of decent vacations. I have 25 days a year again (vs. the 10 standard here) and I will use each and every one of them. A vacation to see old friends, a vacation to lay on a beach and a vacation full of adventure - that's the plan.
And finally this is the year in which I'll finish my Ad book. It's been too long - and it's not that hard. Again an hour a day and 4 hrs at weekends should see me finish soon. It will be considerably better written than this blog too (hasn't this been poor recently?)
That's it I think. I am resolute. 2007 is way past my dead-by date and it will be enjoyed.
But 2007 is a year that I didn't expect to see and it's a year where I find myself sans excuses. So here goes.
This is the year where I'm going to work up a sweat at least once a day. A year in which I start to enjoy physicality and to really push myself.
This year will see me in the best shape of my life. I'll continue with the pilates and throw in some extra gym sessions each week. It's going to be the year where summer is spent shirtless and shameless.
This is the year where I make an effort to actually learn Dutch. I have the Rosetta Stone manual - all I need now is a bucket of phlegm (you need it, believe me) and and hour a day. That I can do.
This is the year where I start cooking again. In Australia what I tended to eat was natural, healthy and unprocessed. I've let that go - and having helped out a little with 'real food' over Xmas I want to get back to it. Bye bye shopping once a month - hello shopping once a day.
This is the year when I take a couple of decent vacations. I have 25 days a year again (vs. the 10 standard here) and I will use each and every one of them. A vacation to see old friends, a vacation to lay on a beach and a vacation full of adventure - that's the plan.
And finally this is the year in which I'll finish my Ad book. It's been too long - and it's not that hard. Again an hour a day and 4 hrs at weekends should see me finish soon. It will be considerably better written than this blog too (hasn't this been poor recently?)
That's it I think. I am resolute. 2007 is way past my dead-by date and it will be enjoyed.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Christmas Eve
Though with the sunshine brilliant and blinding and the temperature at around 13C it doesn't quite feel that way. Still good news for the carolling in Washington Square Park
Have realized that what we need is a Christmas Eve tradition - something that hooks us into the holiday regardless of where we are in the world. I know that sans kids it's harder - but there has to be something - from treating a midnight mass as a free 'appetizer' through to watching some crap old 'only at Xmas' TV show.
Suggestions - of the helpful kind - gratefully received
Have realized that what we need is a Christmas Eve tradition - something that hooks us into the holiday regardless of where we are in the world. I know that sans kids it's harder - but there has to be something - from treating a midnight mass as a free 'appetizer' through to watching some crap old 'only at Xmas' TV show.
Suggestions - of the helpful kind - gratefully received
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Food shopping at Xmas
When I was a kid my favorite thing about Xmas was the food shopping trip to Fine Fare. Fine fare was a supermarket famed for it's 'yellow label' goods years before 'own label' ever became an idea that the posh stores would adopt.
Our local fine fare had been opened by 'plays a vet on TV' Christopher Timothy, who I'd been told flew in by helicopter - and what he opened was a real boon to the council estate on which we lived.
But at Xmas the shopping trip was different. My grandparent's would join us, there would be a Xmas movie to watch when we got home and I'd already have watch a puppet rat be mean to a puppet Gerbil (who was welsh) before leaving the house - so my spirits would be high.
The great thing about a Xmas shopping trip was that all of those shelves that had been off-limits during the year suddenly became accessible. Mr. Kipling chocolate fancies with a bit of cadbury's flake on the top? Throw them in. Woodpecker cider - it's Xmas.
The christmas shop gave me access to excess. To a world of abundence and permission that I didn't realize was commonplace for many of my friends. It seemed to me that the supermarkets magically filled for the holidays with weird, wonderful and only vaguely Christmas specific goodies - and yet (I now suspect) that whilst the tins of ham my have grown bigger and the biscuits developed hard, snow covered tins - the rest was purely permission to indulge.
We're heading out today to do our Xmas dinner shopping - and I know it won't be the same, but I'm still scanning the morning TV in search of a showing of a rat in a festive hat
Our local fine fare had been opened by 'plays a vet on TV' Christopher Timothy, who I'd been told flew in by helicopter - and what he opened was a real boon to the council estate on which we lived.
But at Xmas the shopping trip was different. My grandparent's would join us, there would be a Xmas movie to watch when we got home and I'd already have watch a puppet rat be mean to a puppet Gerbil (who was welsh) before leaving the house - so my spirits would be high.
The great thing about a Xmas shopping trip was that all of those shelves that had been off-limits during the year suddenly became accessible. Mr. Kipling chocolate fancies with a bit of cadbury's flake on the top? Throw them in. Woodpecker cider - it's Xmas.
The christmas shop gave me access to excess. To a world of abundence and permission that I didn't realize was commonplace for many of my friends. It seemed to me that the supermarkets magically filled for the holidays with weird, wonderful and only vaguely Christmas specific goodies - and yet (I now suspect) that whilst the tins of ham my have grown bigger and the biscuits developed hard, snow covered tins - the rest was purely permission to indulge.
We're heading out today to do our Xmas dinner shopping - and I know it won't be the same, but I'm still scanning the morning TV in search of a showing of a rat in a festive hat
Friday, December 22, 2006
It's Christmas
I get to light candles
The cats get to go into the bedroom
The house is full of Etta James played on good speakers
And there's rum in my coffee
Hurray and huzzah
The cats get to go into the bedroom
The house is full of Etta James played on good speakers
And there's rum in my coffee
Hurray and huzzah
Holiday cheer
A friend once told me that the problem with London was that it was a provincial town laboring under the illusion that it's a cosmopolitan city.
Certainly the Christmas missive from the London office (note Christmas not 'Holiday') showed a crass insensitivity. I thought that the 'do you have holiday Tourette's?' section of the video (the word 'fuck' repeated over 50 times by various high-ups in the office) was kinda funny but I'm pretty sure my amusement wasn't shared by the women in the Shanghai office who'd be more bemused than amused... and for all the open mouthed guffawing in New York many were slack jaw'd with horror.
I know that the amount of drinking, lesbian gags and swearing flying around the place is enough fodder for a law suit that could kill the company - and that it's only a matter of time before it comes. Yet meanwhile we continue down a very laddish path... it'll be great while it lasts
Certainly the Christmas missive from the London office (note Christmas not 'Holiday') showed a crass insensitivity. I thought that the 'do you have holiday Tourette's?' section of the video (the word 'fuck' repeated over 50 times by various high-ups in the office) was kinda funny but I'm pretty sure my amusement wasn't shared by the women in the Shanghai office who'd be more bemused than amused... and for all the open mouthed guffawing in New York many were slack jaw'd with horror.
I know that the amount of drinking, lesbian gags and swearing flying around the place is enough fodder for a law suit that could kill the company - and that it's only a matter of time before it comes. Yet meanwhile we continue down a very laddish path... it'll be great while it lasts
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Why is it that?
People who have no money for the obviously homeless guy on the corner suddenly find change for their eggnog latte as soon as he's out of sight?
And why is it that 'urgent blackberry messages that cannot be ignored' only ever seem to come in when there's something that they don't want to look at / deal with?
And why is it that at Xmas stores throw untrained seasonal workers onto the shop floor and push their frayed patience with endless loops of the same three Xmas songs and an ever changing PoS system (what happened to tills?)
And why is it that when faced with an exhorbitant price tag on an item I'll walk away but when told the price by a salesperson I have to go through the charade of consideration?
And why is it sometimes not a charade?
This could go on (and on) but I run the risk of sounding like the offspring of Tracy Chapman and Savage Garden and that's a thought I'd gladly pay to avoid
And why is it that 'urgent blackberry messages that cannot be ignored' only ever seem to come in when there's something that they don't want to look at / deal with?
And why is it that at Xmas stores throw untrained seasonal workers onto the shop floor and push their frayed patience with endless loops of the same three Xmas songs and an ever changing PoS system (what happened to tills?)
And why is it that when faced with an exhorbitant price tag on an item I'll walk away but when told the price by a salesperson I have to go through the charade of consideration?
And why is it sometimes not a charade?
This could go on (and on) but I run the risk of sounding like the offspring of Tracy Chapman and Savage Garden and that's a thought I'd gladly pay to avoid
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Talking to people about Coffee today
wondering whether they really knew what made good coffee, what they'd pay more for and what signalled excellence. I was expecting people to say things like - "well in a coffee shop it's about the expertise, the machinery, the ambience but from a stall I just want hot, strong and fresh milk."
What I got instead was
"I just don't want my coffee to taste of bacon - this one does."
"Ordering fancy coffee makes me feel like a poof"
and
"I want the bitterness of my coffee to seep directly out of the disaffected, tattoo'd maniac making it."
Nowt so queer as folk
What I got instead was
"I just don't want my coffee to taste of bacon - this one does."
"Ordering fancy coffee makes me feel like a poof"
and
"I want the bitterness of my coffee to seep directly out of the disaffected, tattoo'd maniac making it."
Nowt so queer as folk
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Finally - the book idea
I've been struggling a little with my advertising book. What I wanted to avoid was the old marketing book trick of 'an argument that could be expressed in 10 pages stretched out to 210'.
To insure against this I'm not going to write a single, cohesive, arguement - instead it's going to be 12 provocations. 12 Rants from the Dark Side that talk about business, brands and the death throes of the American advertising industry. Each rant will be the 15 pages I need to 'get it off my chest / prove I'm right / offer a solution' after which I'll simply move on to the next topic.
Thank god that the American Ad' Industry is screwed up enough to support my A.D.D huh?
I'm going to write both the intro and the first chapter "Brand Surrender. The You Tubing of American business" over the next day or so. After which I'll move on to 'Mirrored convictions', 'Creative narcissism', 'All mouth, no trousers" and take it from there.
I do genuinely believe that the current mania for surrendering the course of brands entirely to the public (YOU design your own shoe, write your own ad, help us come up with a new product, wipe our ass) is a huge mistake. Yes interruption as a method of communication is slowly dying off - but the response has to be something other than 'the customer is in control' - aren't brands supposed to be beacons of belief? aren't they supposed to stand for something that makes them worth the extra couple of bucks we pay for them? It's bad enough that Government has been castrated by an over reliance on focus groups (I can't imagine Churchill saying "We will fight them wherever you think it's a good idea to fight them - let us know on 0890 112211, press 1 for beaches, 2 for France, 3 for the streets' etc.
Anyway this isn't nearly as well expressed as I'd like but it's early here and distractions abound. But I'm jazzed to the point of spontaneous Fosse hands
To insure against this I'm not going to write a single, cohesive, arguement - instead it's going to be 12 provocations. 12 Rants from the Dark Side that talk about business, brands and the death throes of the American advertising industry. Each rant will be the 15 pages I need to 'get it off my chest / prove I'm right / offer a solution' after which I'll simply move on to the next topic.
Thank god that the American Ad' Industry is screwed up enough to support my A.D.D huh?
I'm going to write both the intro and the first chapter "Brand Surrender. The You Tubing of American business" over the next day or so. After which I'll move on to 'Mirrored convictions', 'Creative narcissism', 'All mouth, no trousers" and take it from there.
I do genuinely believe that the current mania for surrendering the course of brands entirely to the public (YOU design your own shoe, write your own ad, help us come up with a new product, wipe our ass) is a huge mistake. Yes interruption as a method of communication is slowly dying off - but the response has to be something other than 'the customer is in control' - aren't brands supposed to be beacons of belief? aren't they supposed to stand for something that makes them worth the extra couple of bucks we pay for them? It's bad enough that Government has been castrated by an over reliance on focus groups (I can't imagine Churchill saying "We will fight them wherever you think it's a good idea to fight them - let us know on 0890 112211, press 1 for beaches, 2 for France, 3 for the streets' etc.
Anyway this isn't nearly as well expressed as I'd like but it's early here and distractions abound. But I'm jazzed to the point of spontaneous Fosse hands
Sunday, December 17, 2006
salsa feet
It's been quite a weekend... the day after Faith's party I had the all day office party - which included an hour of salsa dancing training. It would have been a blast had I known the people a little better and the teacher hadn't been quite so determined to show that she had the sass to match her salsa. Best quote though had to be "Women, small steps and men - as much as it hurts - try to commit, just this once, try to commit.'
Last night was a farewell to Alex and Christiana - two of my favorite people around. Alongside our friend Ali they were about the only people who visit us during the worst days of my cancer. It was Alex's brunch into which I coughed blood after chemo session #1 and it was Christiana who kept Judith sane with shopping trips and tales of a childhood spent on the road. Alex and Christiana are moving to London, a good move for them but we will miss them - and miss them a great deal.
We had brunch with them today - and with our friends Shruti and Mandar (who brought their fantastically bright son Ishan)... a mirror of the brunch we had with them yesterday - joined by our friends Michael, Joanna and their fantastically bright son Ollie.
Coming up we have drinks with the Lodge 212ers. We have Top Dog at the Harlem Apollo with J.Lum and 'his' 'lovely lady' and we have long evenings in front of the Xmas tree. Which is just as well as I'm starting to feel the effects of constant brunching, boozing and having dinner out.
Last night was a farewell to Alex and Christiana - two of my favorite people around. Alongside our friend Ali they were about the only people who visit us during the worst days of my cancer. It was Alex's brunch into which I coughed blood after chemo session #1 and it was Christiana who kept Judith sane with shopping trips and tales of a childhood spent on the road. Alex and Christiana are moving to London, a good move for them but we will miss them - and miss them a great deal.
We had brunch with them today - and with our friends Shruti and Mandar (who brought their fantastically bright son Ishan)... a mirror of the brunch we had with them yesterday - joined by our friends Michael, Joanna and their fantastically bright son Ollie.
Coming up we have drinks with the Lodge 212ers. We have Top Dog at the Harlem Apollo with J.Lum and 'his' 'lovely lady' and we have long evenings in front of the Xmas tree. Which is just as well as I'm starting to feel the effects of constant brunching, boozing and having dinner out.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Party, party
So last night I went to a party at Faith Popcorn's house. Faith is a famous 'trend spotter' and 'futurist', fond of terms like 'Eve-olution' and a damn good sales woman... as her splendid, elegant and vast house seemed to attest. You don't buy yourself a place like that on my salary.
Of course being a New York party everyone but the hostess was dressed in black. It's a bit of an unwritten rule that you show up in black so that when the hostess arrives she really 'Pops'... a rule that I forgot. I turned up looking like a colorfully packaged sack of shit (pale pink hemp if you must know) and proceeded to drink my way past the point of embarrassment.
Office party today (all day!) and then a Con and Haje party at the weekend as well as trying to squeeze in something with our departing for shores afresh friends Alex and Christiana.
All very different from this time last year
Of course being a New York party everyone but the hostess was dressed in black. It's a bit of an unwritten rule that you show up in black so that when the hostess arrives she really 'Pops'... a rule that I forgot. I turned up looking like a colorfully packaged sack of shit (pale pink hemp if you must know) and proceeded to drink my way past the point of embarrassment.
Office party today (all day!) and then a Con and Haje party at the weekend as well as trying to squeeze in something with our departing for shores afresh friends Alex and Christiana.
All very different from this time last year
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Pervy vistitors welcome
With the numbers flagging of late I thought that perhaps a picture of a hot teen chick accidentally bearing her pert tits might bring me a flood of one handed surfers.
Welcome one, welcome all. Look I even included a sneak peek at Lindsay Lohan's nipple and if you hang around long enough I may join the growing ranks using Britney's inability to find knickers before leaving the house as a honeypot to draw you closer.
Of course you may be a fan of male nude celebriries or as it's known on the pay sites 'hot celebrity cock' - let me save you some money. There are three genuine if grainy old pics of Brad Pitt a decent fake of Antonio Banderas and a whole bunch of dradful heads glued to porno bodies masquerading as people who may have once appeared on ER. There that's saved you $12.95 a month.
Just to really spike the entries though let me say Tom Cruise naked, Brad Pitt nude, Angelina Jolie naked nude sex, Angela Rippon in a pinny and Delia Smith buttered and up to the elbows in red hot bird (goose I think)
For regular readers this week will see me chasing up scans, seeing off old friends bound for London and talking with Jude about what we do next...
Less interesting I know.
BTW new, pervy friends Paris Hilton sex tape, Pam and Tommy Lee, Britney sex tape, Nora Batty nude, Hilda Ogden's unusual curler placement, chitty chitty gang bang, Harry twater and the sorceror's bone, Supernanny nude, Bob Carolgese dogging, Russ Abbott's bunker and of course live web cam action.
Let's measure how THAT increases traffic
Welcome one, welcome all. Look I even included a sneak peek at Lindsay Lohan's nipple and if you hang around long enough I may join the growing ranks using Britney's inability to find knickers before leaving the house as a honeypot to draw you closer.
Of course you may be a fan of male nude celebriries or as it's known on the pay sites 'hot celebrity cock' - let me save you some money. There are three genuine if grainy old pics of Brad Pitt a decent fake of Antonio Banderas and a whole bunch of dradful heads glued to porno bodies masquerading as people who may have once appeared on ER. There that's saved you $12.95 a month.
Just to really spike the entries though let me say Tom Cruise naked, Brad Pitt nude, Angelina Jolie naked nude sex, Angela Rippon in a pinny and Delia Smith buttered and up to the elbows in red hot bird (goose I think)
For regular readers this week will see me chasing up scans, seeing off old friends bound for London and talking with Jude about what we do next...
Less interesting I know.
BTW new, pervy friends Paris Hilton sex tape, Pam and Tommy Lee, Britney sex tape, Nora Batty nude, Hilda Ogden's unusual curler placement, chitty chitty gang bang, Harry twater and the sorceror's bone, Supernanny nude, Bob Carolgese dogging, Russ Abbott's bunker and of course live web cam action.
Let's measure how THAT increases traffic
secret santa
I need to buy a secret santa gift today. The rule is that it has to either come from E.Bay or be As Seen On Tv.
Those rules suck as I have no time to wait for delivery so now I need a gift that LOOKS as though it came from either E.Bay or As Seen On TV (the infomercial guys)
The upper limit is $20 and the recipient is a recently engaged Cuban American who emigrates to London next week (and is a keen student of German)
Any ideas?
Those rules suck as I have no time to wait for delivery so now I need a gift that LOOKS as though it came from either E.Bay or As Seen On TV (the infomercial guys)
The upper limit is $20 and the recipient is a recently engaged Cuban American who emigrates to London next week (and is a keen student of German)
Any ideas?
Monday, December 11, 2006
抜糸直後
Sometimes the very fact people are visiting this blog regularly is enough to compel me to write something a little more intimate than the humdrum mechanics of my life. It doesn’t happen often, but it happens often enough for me to wonder whether there’s a therapeutic value to this mad rambles.
Actually I’ve been surprised by just how sane this whole thing has been. Give me a pen and a piece of paper and I’ll go off-piste faster than a minor royal in Cloisters. Put a computer in front of me and I become a whole lot more constrained. Perhaps by the pressure to keep spell checker happy – perhaps by the feeble rate at which I type or maybe by the format imposed on me by MicroSoft… but it is all rather sensible.
I’m doing lots of health comparison vs. a year ago at the moment. Remembering being laid up in bed, recently biopsied and sore to my very core. I had a very John McCaine couple of weeks – unable to raise my hands above shoulder height and bristling with what felt like righteous but fading indignation. Stoking the flames of discontent has always been one of my specialties. I think, again, that this is a very British thing. Whilst the idea of Thanksgiving is absolutely alien to us (‘You mean, say – out loud - all that I’m thankful for, in front of other people? You must be taking the piss’) yet we love moaners, whingers, complainers (think Victor Meldrew, Alf Garnett) and the terminally depressed but unabashed (every feisty female in Corrie history). And I have to say I feed more on discontent than I do on optimism. There’s a real sense of possibility in the thought ‘it’s only going to get worse.’
Anyway this is going nowhere – it’s neither insightful nor amusing, making it self indulgent and that’s worse even than earnest. So I’ll head back to thinking about pharmaceutical packaging, white goods and caffeinated beverages…
Actually I’ve been surprised by just how sane this whole thing has been. Give me a pen and a piece of paper and I’ll go off-piste faster than a minor royal in Cloisters. Put a computer in front of me and I become a whole lot more constrained. Perhaps by the pressure to keep spell checker happy – perhaps by the feeble rate at which I type or maybe by the format imposed on me by MicroSoft… but it is all rather sensible.
I’m doing lots of health comparison vs. a year ago at the moment. Remembering being laid up in bed, recently biopsied and sore to my very core. I had a very John McCaine couple of weeks – unable to raise my hands above shoulder height and bristling with what felt like righteous but fading indignation. Stoking the flames of discontent has always been one of my specialties. I think, again, that this is a very British thing. Whilst the idea of Thanksgiving is absolutely alien to us (‘You mean, say – out loud - all that I’m thankful for, in front of other people? You must be taking the piss’) yet we love moaners, whingers, complainers (think Victor Meldrew, Alf Garnett) and the terminally depressed but unabashed (every feisty female in Corrie history). And I have to say I feed more on discontent than I do on optimism. There’s a real sense of possibility in the thought ‘it’s only going to get worse.’
Anyway this is going nowhere – it’s neither insightful nor amusing, making it self indulgent and that’s worse even than earnest. So I’ll head back to thinking about pharmaceutical packaging, white goods and caffeinated beverages…
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Xmas
had a friend over for a blow-out brunch today - I shopped, Jude cooked and all was a splendid success.
Followed with a wee walk and a spot of shopping (Jude bought an AMAZING coat and was asked where she bought her sweater - she'd knitted it) and we headed back, the night drawing in, a Xmas tree under our arms and cheeks glowing in the chill air (or perhaps as a result of too much fat bastard sparkling wine - $12, a bargain)
The tree is now up, the dog is asleep ON my feet and the lights are turned low. Feeling content to the point of smug here today - and that before the final of The Amazing Race (go drug addict models!)
Followed with a wee walk and a spot of shopping (Jude bought an AMAZING coat and was asked where she bought her sweater - she'd knitted it) and we headed back, the night drawing in, a Xmas tree under our arms and cheeks glowing in the chill air (or perhaps as a result of too much fat bastard sparkling wine - $12, a bargain)
The tree is now up, the dog is asleep ON my feet and the lights are turned low. Feeling content to the point of smug here today - and that before the final of The Amazing Race (go drug addict models!)
Saturday, December 09, 2006
It was Cold yesterday...
....really cold - the thermometer said -6C but with all of the chill factors it felt like -18c here - quite a change from the 21C weather of last week and yet more proof that as Bob Dylan and Al Gore seem to agree 'a change is gonna come'
Still Jude and I braved the weather in order to go and see sticky romantic confection 'The Holiday'. The cinema was packed with single New York women speaking in ever higher pitch and with greater and greater volume. Why is it that young American women mistake volume for wit? As their stories grew to deafening in terms of decibels my interest in them (and my will to live) fell to new lows. And it was every story, the noise suggested that the audience was collectively being sucked through a jet engine - having inhaled two lungs full of helium. The trailers were drowned out, the ads went unnoticed and it wasn't until the lights went down that things subsided. But only just.
There were sighs of recognition at Kate Winslett's unrequited affection. Knicker moistening at Jude Law's every move (he IS very good in this), self recognition in Cameron Diaz's every American on foreign soil fumble and a softening toward Jack Black (if not inderplaying then not wildly mugging here)
Yes it was corny. Yes it was predictable. Yes it was manipulative. But we all let happy. Turn off your cynicism and go see.
Still Jude and I braved the weather in order to go and see sticky romantic confection 'The Holiday'. The cinema was packed with single New York women speaking in ever higher pitch and with greater and greater volume. Why is it that young American women mistake volume for wit? As their stories grew to deafening in terms of decibels my interest in them (and my will to live) fell to new lows. And it was every story, the noise suggested that the audience was collectively being sucked through a jet engine - having inhaled two lungs full of helium. The trailers were drowned out, the ads went unnoticed and it wasn't until the lights went down that things subsided. But only just.
There were sighs of recognition at Kate Winslett's unrequited affection. Knicker moistening at Jude Law's every move (he IS very good in this), self recognition in Cameron Diaz's every American on foreign soil fumble and a softening toward Jack Black (if not inderplaying then not wildly mugging here)
Yes it was corny. Yes it was predictable. Yes it was manipulative. But we all let happy. Turn off your cynicism and go see.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Wow
I found myself dancing on the way home today. Despite the cold. And the people. And the fact that I've not been doing much this week, there was a real sense of release and elation.
I can't remember the last time that I felt as heel clickingly Gene Kelly as this... granted it might be the wine and free pizza I had with Neena but I think it's more than that. I'm working at a place that's only 25 people strong - but it is strong. They're bright and fun and accessible and they're interested... plus they have stories that have bridges to them like "so there I was in Barcelona, crumping the tranny when..."
Zippety doo da day
I can't remember the last time that I felt as heel clickingly Gene Kelly as this... granted it might be the wine and free pizza I had with Neena but I think it's more than that. I'm working at a place that's only 25 people strong - but it is strong. They're bright and fun and accessible and they're interested... plus they have stories that have bridges to them like "so there I was in Barcelona, crumping the tranny when..."
Zippety doo da day
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
So...
... right now I'm on a huge Cyndi Lauper kick, which I think makes me a lesbian. Hopefully a Jennifer Beals, L-Word lesbian rather than a placard carrying dykes for open toed shoes lesbian, but a lesbian non-the-less.
I did have a Cyndi Lauper song planned for my funeral 'I'll be your river' from The Body Acoustic. Doubtless it would have sounded tinny on the antiquated speakers of whatever crematorium we found ourselves in but it would have made a welcome change from Robbie Williams' 'Angels' - wouldn't it?
I did have a Cyndi Lauper song planned for my funeral 'I'll be your river' from The Body Acoustic. Doubtless it would have sounded tinny on the antiquated speakers of whatever crematorium we found ourselves in but it would have made a welcome change from Robbie Williams' 'Angels' - wouldn't it?
all clear - again
My doctor called early yesterday morning... not usually a good sign so when I saw his name pop ip on my caller ID my heart entered zero gravity and floated towards my throat, spinning slowly asw it made its ascent.
My initial thought (after 'shit') was that I couldn't be sick so early after joining a new company. That it wasn't fair on them. I guess that this is either decency, transference or my fear of once again being labelled damaged or fragile. The new guys see me as a new employee. Not as the guy who's sick, or might me sick again, or who was sick or any of that... it's a blank slate that I didn't want smeared with the effulent that is bad news.
And it wasn't bad news, all was clear with my blood, across every test and marker. The hairloss it seems is stress (both current and delayed physical stress from treatment) and should reverse itself. They hope.
In a word "Phew".
I don't like how every illness gets inflated in my mind at the moment - and look forward to the day when a stuffy nose and sore throat equates to Cherry Tunes rather than imminent death.
My initial thought (after 'shit') was that I couldn't be sick so early after joining a new company. That it wasn't fair on them. I guess that this is either decency, transference or my fear of once again being labelled damaged or fragile. The new guys see me as a new employee. Not as the guy who's sick, or might me sick again, or who was sick or any of that... it's a blank slate that I didn't want smeared with the effulent that is bad news.
And it wasn't bad news, all was clear with my blood, across every test and marker. The hairloss it seems is stress (both current and delayed physical stress from treatment) and should reverse itself. They hope.
In a word "Phew".
I don't like how every illness gets inflated in my mind at the moment - and look forward to the day when a stuffy nose and sore throat equates to Cherry Tunes rather than imminent death.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Missed a day
Weird day yesterday. Went in to my new office to sign paperwork and then had to dash to the doctor for blood work and a thyroid panel. The way he casually said - that will be one of things I'll check for, amongst some more serious - sent chills through me. The last time he was this casual I was 24 hrs away from a cancer diagnosis. Let's hope it's 'just' the thyroid huh?
Evening was spent watching women lying about their eating habits. Only real insights were that Americans like to chew their soup and that nutrition has become divorced from food in the US - if you want nutrition you buy the appropriate vitamin or 'fortified superfood' - they'll give it to you in higher concentration than something like a vegetable.
Really fascinating to what the lack of energy too - this really is a 'whatever' culture... shame.
Evening was spent watching women lying about their eating habits. Only real insights were that Americans like to chew their soup and that nutrition has become divorced from food in the US - if you want nutrition you buy the appropriate vitamin or 'fortified superfood' - they'll give it to you in higher concentration than something like a vegetable.
Really fascinating to what the lack of energy too - this really is a 'whatever' culture... shame.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Bun-gee
I once had to stay in Vanuatu.
We were working on an international gambling thing and the client stayed close to his computer servers - which meant the virtually tax free nation of Vanuatu. On the first day of operation an earthquake wiped out the server, on my first day there another almost knocked a scented marker pen out of my hand - though I plowed on through.
I have no idea why Vanuatu comes to mind today but this picture - of a Vanuatu tradition - think bungee using vines rather than elastic and sudden, hip dislocating stops as the 'rope' runs out felt rather apt to my mood.
Just watched Cyndi Lauper live in HD on a Sunday morning and realise that middle age is absolutely upon me - was 'Time After Time' really a quarter of a decade ago?
We were working on an international gambling thing and the client stayed close to his computer servers - which meant the virtually tax free nation of Vanuatu. On the first day of operation an earthquake wiped out the server, on my first day there another almost knocked a scented marker pen out of my hand - though I plowed on through.
I have no idea why Vanuatu comes to mind today but this picture - of a Vanuatu tradition - think bungee using vines rather than elastic and sudden, hip dislocating stops as the 'rope' runs out felt rather apt to my mood.
Just watched Cyndi Lauper live in HD on a Sunday morning and realise that middle age is absolutely upon me - was 'Time After Time' really a quarter of a decade ago?
Saturday, December 02, 2006
The world is too small
Last night I went out with a couple of friends who I hadn't seen in 4 years. One of them brought 'an old friend from Thailand' - who turned out to be the woman who would have been my new client had a stayed in my last job. She had flown to NYC to see me and then been told that I 'wasn't available' - weird huh.
Seeing Lisa again though just served as a reminder that my 'out of sight out of mind' policy on friendships is fundamentally flawed. It was an absolute joy to catch up with her and I'll never let as much time slip by again without getting in touch.
The fact that she's wearing so diaphanous a garment on a December 1st evening is testament to the fact that we've buggered up the globe. It was 21C here last night - about 20C above the average for this time of year and whilst at the beginning of what was supposed to be winter we got lots of weak 'if this is global warming I'm buying a Hummer' gags now there seems to be a genuine air of concern about the city.
Seeing Lisa again though just served as a reminder that my 'out of sight out of mind' policy on friendships is fundamentally flawed. It was an absolute joy to catch up with her and I'll never let as much time slip by again without getting in touch.
The fact that she's wearing so diaphanous a garment on a December 1st evening is testament to the fact that we've buggered up the globe. It was 21C here last night - about 20C above the average for this time of year and whilst at the beginning of what was supposed to be winter we got lots of weak 'if this is global warming I'm buying a Hummer' gags now there seems to be a genuine air of concern about the city.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Long day today
The jetlag is still washing over me at irregular intervals - which means that I was up early this morning. Just as well as the call that I was expecting from my ex-president at 7pm tonight came at 7am this morning.
I do feel as though I have let her down personally and of course this is exactly what I'm supposed to feel. 'Disappointment' is a management tool that's very effective though the words today 'I am disappointed on so many levels' still stung a little.
Still I know that I'm doing the right thing - I need a little less stress, a little more certainty and the opportunity to do some really good work and I think that a move will achieve that, so I'll head in today, hand over my blackberry, send out an emotional farewell and slip quietly into the dark busom of ex-corporate employees.
Got around the problem of patchy baldness by shaving my head yesterday. A practical solution to be sure but one that has me looking in the mirror and remembering being the 'ill' guy. Am told that post illness trauma and stress is common in the 4-12 month period and that all manner of things often happen hair loss, shingles, ME... so it seems that I've drawn the longest of the straws in that my condition is both typical and none debilitating. Hurts to be SO typical yet again.
Today's pic was one that I took whilst walking around Antwerp and it's one that I really like, despite all of the technical imperfections it displays. I do like Tin Tin and he did give us The Thompson Twins... not to mention remarkably accurate imaginings of future spacecraft.
Anyway the gym beckons
I do feel as though I have let her down personally and of course this is exactly what I'm supposed to feel. 'Disappointment' is a management tool that's very effective though the words today 'I am disappointed on so many levels' still stung a little.
Still I know that I'm doing the right thing - I need a little less stress, a little more certainty and the opportunity to do some really good work and I think that a move will achieve that, so I'll head in today, hand over my blackberry, send out an emotional farewell and slip quietly into the dark busom of ex-corporate employees.
Got around the problem of patchy baldness by shaving my head yesterday. A practical solution to be sure but one that has me looking in the mirror and remembering being the 'ill' guy. Am told that post illness trauma and stress is common in the 4-12 month period and that all manner of things often happen hair loss, shingles, ME... so it seems that I've drawn the longest of the straws in that my condition is both typical and none debilitating. Hurts to be SO typical yet again.
Today's pic was one that I took whilst walking around Antwerp and it's one that I really like, despite all of the technical imperfections it displays. I do like Tin Tin and he did give us The Thompson Twins... not to mention remarkably accurate imaginings of future spacecraft.
Anyway the gym beckons
Thursday, November 30, 2006
I'm spending today on the telephone...
... explaining my reasons for leaving my current job to the various big wigs who need to know. To date the conversations have been very adult.
The reasons for my going are actually quite simple - MOMEMTUM (I need to feel as though I'm moving toward being in charge of something), MONEY (a salary that keeps pace with the rent / mortgages) and MISSION (a place that knows why it exists, what it's trying to do and how I can help)
I'm in the lucky position of being able to do what I love and to demand decent reward for doing it and I'm finally flexing some of that power.
It doesn't help of course that I'm having these calls whilst suffering the jet lag to end all jet lags - having spent the last 10 days getting to various places in the world whilst planning how to get back. We lost a day heading to London. a day at the embassy, a day heading north to my parents' house, a day getting to Antwerp, a day getting to and from Amsterdam and a day getting home yesterday.
Mind I'd rather be at home on the telephone than running the maurading pre-Xmas shopping hoards of Brits who have descended upon New York on the back of a dollar to pound exchange rate of 1.95 - if I hear another Essex voiced cry of 'I'll need an extra suitcase to get all of this stuff home' then I shall scream. If there's one thing that NYC can do without it's fat, 'blonde', tasteless gangs of clueless British housewives clucking 'cheap, cheap, cheap' as they elbow their way around Macy's (which isn't the American Harrod's ladies - it's the American Debenhams)
Perhaps Bloomberg could pass a decibel law and turn back screeching harridans at customs...
The reasons for my going are actually quite simple - MOMEMTUM (I need to feel as though I'm moving toward being in charge of something), MONEY (a salary that keeps pace with the rent / mortgages) and MISSION (a place that knows why it exists, what it's trying to do and how I can help)
I'm in the lucky position of being able to do what I love and to demand decent reward for doing it and I'm finally flexing some of that power.
It doesn't help of course that I'm having these calls whilst suffering the jet lag to end all jet lags - having spent the last 10 days getting to various places in the world whilst planning how to get back. We lost a day heading to London. a day at the embassy, a day heading north to my parents' house, a day getting to Antwerp, a day getting to and from Amsterdam and a day getting home yesterday.
Mind I'd rather be at home on the telephone than running the maurading pre-Xmas shopping hoards of Brits who have descended upon New York on the back of a dollar to pound exchange rate of 1.95 - if I hear another Essex voiced cry of 'I'll need an extra suitcase to get all of this stuff home' then I shall scream. If there's one thing that NYC can do without it's fat, 'blonde', tasteless gangs of clueless British housewives clucking 'cheap, cheap, cheap' as they elbow their way around Macy's (which isn't the American Harrod's ladies - it's the American Debenhams)
Perhaps Bloomberg could pass a decibel law and turn back screeching harridans at customs...
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Not my life yet...
It will disappoint many of you almost as much as it disappoints me to hear that I'm not, yet, a man of infinite leisure and flexible gym appointments. Jude is still beavering away at the PhD and won't graduate until May after which there's at least a few months before she starts a job - and still no firm indication of what and where that job may be.
So no Colorado or Canada for me just yet - instead I'm moving all the way to Tribeca where I'll be doing any number of projects for What If? - an innovation company that has a really interesting social strategy side and offers the chance to work with big brands on short projects again.
Why innovation? Well I'm good at it, I liked the people that I met at the company, I like that it's growing and the direction in which it's growing, I like that it will keep me in lofts and age inappropriate clothing in a way that the last lot couldn't and I like the degree of flexibilty that it will give me.... right now I'm working out of New York but snow capped mountains and gainful employment need not be mutually exclusive anymore. But what I liked most is that they wanted me there, really wanted me there and that's something I crave (sad but true)
So it's goodbye cruising, goodbye sofa, goodbye self-pity and hello to a new challenge, a new cast of characters and a fresh start.
So no Colorado or Canada for me just yet - instead I'm moving all the way to Tribeca where I'll be doing any number of projects for What If? - an innovation company that has a really interesting social strategy side and offers the chance to work with big brands on short projects again.
Why innovation? Well I'm good at it, I liked the people that I met at the company, I like that it's growing and the direction in which it's growing, I like that it will keep me in lofts and age inappropriate clothing in a way that the last lot couldn't and I like the degree of flexibilty that it will give me.... right now I'm working out of New York but snow capped mountains and gainful employment need not be mutually exclusive anymore. But what I liked most is that they wanted me there, really wanted me there and that's something I crave (sad but true)
So it's goodbye cruising, goodbye sofa, goodbye self-pity and hello to a new challenge, a new cast of characters and a fresh start.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Succinct
Well I finally got to hand in my resignation today. Or rather to e-mail it in as I'm still in Belgium - I'll do the official handing of paper and clearing of desks on Thursday when I'm physicakky able to pick up my shit and go.
The temptation of course was to wait another 4 days and claim the pay for those days before telling anyone but that would have been both greedy and just a little below me (I like to think)... besides I've been having the most extraordinary dreams about my ex-president in which she was setting Spy vs. Spy like traps and used all kinds of Monkey magic on both Judith and me in revenge for my leaving and I'm hoping that doing the decent thing will stop the nighttime horrors.
Leaving was harder than I thought but a glance in the mirror (the hair is falling out, I haven't had to shave in 10 days and the hands shake) showed that it was time. Too much travel, too little reward and too great a distance from the decision making process was what killed the bizarre Bobby and Whitney affair that I had with company of old. So it's done. Done, done, done - despite the fact that the corporate e-mail was down this morning.
Spent yesterday in Amsterdam - Jude's mom was with family at a very Grand hotel in a very ungrand area of the red light district, Jude was in Edam visiting granny and I got to wander the Brit filled streets and photograph them propositioning Eastern European women who see their grubby hands as a step closer to a better life - if not for them then for future generations. Pics will be posted on Flickr just as soon as I get home to upload them.
I'm hoping that the sudden hair loss is a stress related thing - it's quite common 3-6 months after major disease; the body suddenly says 'well that was nasty" and starts to play up a bit. Of course I have managed to find 18 cases of cancer of the scalp and thus have that sitting somewhere in my primative lizard brain. Hey - rare versions of common cancers are my thing.
But anyway - here's to the next year. A new job at last, a PhD'd wife and a fresh cast of characters...
The temptation of course was to wait another 4 days and claim the pay for those days before telling anyone but that would have been both greedy and just a little below me (I like to think)... besides I've been having the most extraordinary dreams about my ex-president in which she was setting Spy vs. Spy like traps and used all kinds of Monkey magic on both Judith and me in revenge for my leaving and I'm hoping that doing the decent thing will stop the nighttime horrors.
Leaving was harder than I thought but a glance in the mirror (the hair is falling out, I haven't had to shave in 10 days and the hands shake) showed that it was time. Too much travel, too little reward and too great a distance from the decision making process was what killed the bizarre Bobby and Whitney affair that I had with company of old. So it's done. Done, done, done - despite the fact that the corporate e-mail was down this morning.
Spent yesterday in Amsterdam - Jude's mom was with family at a very Grand hotel in a very ungrand area of the red light district, Jude was in Edam visiting granny and I got to wander the Brit filled streets and photograph them propositioning Eastern European women who see their grubby hands as a step closer to a better life - if not for them then for future generations. Pics will be posted on Flickr just as soon as I get home to upload them.
I'm hoping that the sudden hair loss is a stress related thing - it's quite common 3-6 months after major disease; the body suddenly says 'well that was nasty" and starts to play up a bit. Of course I have managed to find 18 cases of cancer of the scalp and thus have that sitting somewhere in my primative lizard brain. Hey - rare versions of common cancers are my thing.
But anyway - here's to the next year. A new job at last, a PhD'd wife and a fresh cast of characters...
Sunday, November 26, 2006
My brother has a baby
you can see her here - 9 months old and raring to go at life - everything still an adventure to be tasted (literally).
It's an attitude I try to share - and with my hair suddenly and rapidly falling out it might be a look that I soon share too - thank God Matt Lucas made 'baby faced baldness' something other than social death huh?
Driving from Antwerp to Amsterdam today - Jude's mom at a party, Jude visiting granny, me taking as many pictures as I can in the couple of hours I have before meeting an old friend and her new family on a houseboat.
I need to write a piece on American Value brands too - so I'll take pen and pad with me and get that done. It's actually a piece on value brands in the US so am thinking Wal-Mart, Target, Kia, Suave and some other cheap yet cheerful offer (Kraft? / South west airlines?)
Breakfast though calls and so I'll retreat to the kitchen in the hope that Jude's muffin has thawed sufficiently to be edible....
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Antwerp
So after a long LONG journey we finally made it to Antwerp. Incorrect tickets, airport misinformation and broken down trains all slowed us down but eventually determination prevailed and we made it.
This will be short - these split handed keyboards are made for two handed typists and typing isn't an activity I do two handed. So just a 'where in the world?' update - but on Monday I shall reveal all here... what's been going on, with whom and why...
This will be short - these split handed keyboards are made for two handed typists and typing isn't an activity I do two handed. So just a 'where in the world?' update - but on Monday I shall reveal all here... what's been going on, with whom and why...
Thursday, November 23, 2006
What has become of us?
So I've been in England for 4 days now - and have noticed an obsession with a show that a scant decade ago would have appeared only fleetingly one of Chris Tarrant's "Let's Laugh At The Japanese" 'specials' (Clive James would not have stooped so low)"I'm a celebrity get me out of here" is a show designed to humiliate ex-celebrities in need of airtime whilst extracting maximum coinage from the 'voting public'. So the producers decide that somebody has to bathe in cockroaches / eat a Kangaroo's tongue, penis, eye, balls and anus (both genuine challenges) and the 'great British public' phone in at 50p a minute to nominate the posh bird or the poof.
This means that this week Jan Leeming (the second most famous female newsreader of the late 70s) and Scott something or other (a poofy designer of no reputation) get to participate in every nasty little 'challenge' for our amusement.
The only real high to date has been David Gest - husband to Liza - and a man of whom little was known. He's had the good sense to date to tell the most outrageous and bare faced lies, to leap into challenges without flinching (deny the public this and they tire of bullying you) and to refuse to eat the swill provided even when the alternative was hunger. Well done David.
But really when did we become so petty? So pathetic? When did torture (for the challenges are torture) become entertainment? And when did our class and sexuality divide become so self evident? It would be easy to dismiss "I'm a Celebrity..." as a nasty minded piece of filth - it's less easy to ignore the glee with which the British public embrace that filth.
What next? Celebrity torturers in Iraqi prisons? Faith Brown blacked up and forced into a 'stress position' in a black hoel prison somewhere in the far east? Jason Donovan forced to listen to his back catalogue?
It may seem far fetched - but then so did the idea of that camp man from the children's BBC broom cupboard being forced to bathe in frog's intestines being served up as entertainment... didn't it?
Where did all the people go?
I know that the blog posts have been thin and boring of late but it seems that nobody will havwe noticed as nobody reads this anymore... I promise major news and possible sickness in the near future.
Until then I have 5 trains and a plane to catch in a bid to get to Belgium
Until then I have 5 trains and a plane to catch in a bid to get to Belgium
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Oh I do like to be beside the Seaside
Oh I do like to be beside the sea... Back in Redcar for a couple of days - ostensibly to wait on passports (they arrived at 7.50am this morning) but in reality to catch up with friends and family. It's been an age since Jude was here - and she's very excited about both cooking something and heading in to a revamped M'bro in search of boots. She's already bought eco-friendly, Kevlar soled shoes... which she checks excitedly on the half hour, so the boots will be vying for space in the increasingly overloaded hand luggage. Good to spend time with her though... it's been ages since we just chilled out together and I'd forgotten how cool she is
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
London Calling
Steve said I could write a blog post.
So - we're traveling from London to Redcar. A trip I haven't done in a while, on the wonderful Flying Scotsman, or GNER as it is now stylishly called. The fact that it's got modern amenities like wireless connection is deceiving. In fact, the chairs look like they were last upholstered in 1964, and the "off the trolley" lady doesn't use deodorant.
Very English.
All the stewards are Scottish, just like on the Virgin flight on the way over. We feel like we lost Sunday, since most of it was spent lying down 38,000 feet up, from dark to dark (with some light in between).
Saw my brother, Dave, yesterday. And our friend Varya who's now married. But not to Dave.
Anyhoo - Steve says all I do is moan, so I'll keep further thoughts to myself.
:)
So - we're traveling from London to Redcar. A trip I haven't done in a while, on the wonderful Flying Scotsman, or GNER as it is now stylishly called. The fact that it's got modern amenities like wireless connection is deceiving. In fact, the chairs look like they were last upholstered in 1964, and the "off the trolley" lady doesn't use deodorant.
Very English.
All the stewards are Scottish, just like on the Virgin flight on the way over. We feel like we lost Sunday, since most of it was spent lying down 38,000 feet up, from dark to dark (with some light in between).
Saw my brother, Dave, yesterday. And our friend Varya who's now married. But not to Dave.
Anyhoo - Steve says all I do is moan, so I'll keep further thoughts to myself.
:)
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Momentum
Well sheer momentum carries us toward London and the embassy in search of new visas. We jump on a plane tomorrow and head for london in search of two small pieces of paper that will allow me to change my job and us to continue to live in the states for another year or two at least (at which point we'll have been here WAY too long ) and will have to head for the hills, new pastures and the distant horizon.
The last week has been a frustrating one with lawyers visibly making it up as they went along, travel agents booking everything but travel, work piling on the pressure for me to do more and more, fly more and more and resist less and less
But we're here - with arms full of documentation and hearts full of optimism, now helpless against the current of the process and hoping for the soft landing we've been promised.
The last week has been a frustrating one with lawyers visibly making it up as they went along, travel agents booking everything but travel, work piling on the pressure for me to do more and more, fly more and more and resist less and less
But we're here - with arms full of documentation and hearts full of optimism, now helpless against the current of the process and hoping for the soft landing we've been promised.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Easter Dog
Why have I not dressed my dog as a chicken for easter? I mean it's an easy and obvious thing to do and I'm not one to miss either the easy or the obvious.
Heading to see family in the UK this week and (time, passport, funds and Visas allowing) heading from there on over to Belgium to see even more family - this time Judith's.
Being back in the hometown is always a little odd - you do the old haunts and then realise that, well you've done the old haunts and you're still only a day into the trip. So this time I'm going to hire a car and go speeding off through the moors to places where I can shoot some decent (and indecent judith and weather permitting) pictures and reaquaint myself with Bronte country and the very hills that bore Compo as he hurtled hilariously downhill on a homemade contraption. They do a marvellous afternoon tea in 'Last Of The Summer Wine' territory - much better than the tourist trap that is 'Heartbeat Country'
Okay this is in danger of becoming whimsical... I'm off for aerobic pilates on a rebounder and a reformer; how very German.
Heading to see family in the UK this week and (time, passport, funds and Visas allowing) heading from there on over to Belgium to see even more family - this time Judith's.
Being back in the hometown is always a little odd - you do the old haunts and then realise that, well you've done the old haunts and you're still only a day into the trip. So this time I'm going to hire a car and go speeding off through the moors to places where I can shoot some decent (and indecent judith and weather permitting) pictures and reaquaint myself with Bronte country and the very hills that bore Compo as he hurtled hilariously downhill on a homemade contraption. They do a marvellous afternoon tea in 'Last Of The Summer Wine' territory - much better than the tourist trap that is 'Heartbeat Country'
Okay this is in danger of becoming whimsical... I'm off for aerobic pilates on a rebounder and a reformer; how very German.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Madness
Spent the day going back and forth with lawyers who seemed to be making things up as they went along. First Judith had top come with me to London, then she didn't, then she needed her own appointment, then she needed to share mine, then she needed a new passport, then she didn't, then I was a snarling, pissed-off dog of a man, then I wasn't.
It's been a horrible, horrible, horrible day and I promise to explain all next week when this is behind me and I have the freedom to talk about all that's going on.
Other than that things are good. We have heat and hot water again - though it's 16c outside even now (weird for November here); Jude should be landing as I write (she was in Calgary the past couple of days) and the world is generally a mild and mellow place - barring the madness of two women who seem intent on driving me to (more drink)
So nothing to really express other than my frustration and fervent hope that soon, very soon, all of this will be behind us.
It's been a horrible, horrible, horrible day and I promise to explain all next week when this is behind me and I have the freedom to talk about all that's going on.
Other than that things are good. We have heat and hot water again - though it's 16c outside even now (weird for November here); Jude should be landing as I write (she was in Calgary the past couple of days) and the world is generally a mild and mellow place - barring the madness of two women who seem intent on driving me to (more drink)
So nothing to really express other than my frustration and fervent hope that soon, very soon, all of this will be behind us.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
One year on
This blog has now been up and running for a year - and as I stall heading for work in a bid to get on a less crowded train I'm acutely aware that at this precise moment a year ago my doctor was ushering me into a small, private and quite well furnished room to tell me that I had lymphoma. He told me that I was in for a miserable six months - regardless of which kind of lymphoma the biopsies threw up.Of course I didn't know how miserable but my view of cancer treatment had been shaped by chick flicks and brave sporting tales and so I was expecting vomitting, weight loss, sudden dashes to the hospital, grave faces and ultimately the buying of hats and searching for that dark tie neccessitated by funerals.
Looking back on the year it wasn't nearly as bad as I'd suspected and the people around me had feared. The literature - and there's lots of it - lists all of the most dire consequences of each and every drug. The people you see in the waiting room as you get ready to be stuck for blood for the 100th time look frail and tired and afraid.
Friends fall into three groups - those who look past the cancer and insist you come for lunch, those who embrace the cancer and insist on advising you what you should be eating for lunch (usually preceeded with 'I read this article') and those who retreat to e-mail and wish you well from a safe distance.
But the weird thing is that life goes on. You're still curious as to whether that catty girl will finally get the slap she's been needing on America's Top Model. You're still anxious to see that the project you've been working on for months goes through without a hitch. You're still irritated and amused by the same things (the closest I came to dying was with laughter - at a Home Video show which aired a clip of an elderly French woman falling repeatedly into some shrubbery - had it not been for Judith's quick intervention I would have suffocated)
And I guess that that's the only message I have for anyone today coming out of a doctor's waiting room with the word lymphoma, Hodgkins or Non-Hodkins attached to them. Get yourself a doctor that you can trust, get yourself the best treatment available (I had R-CHOP Velcade) and then get on with living life - because really that's all there is.
Monday, November 13, 2006
A year today
It's a year today since I had the scan that first told me that I had cancer.
A year since getting home and finding a message from the doctor that I should call straight away.
And a year since I sat on this chair, at this computer trying to figure out exactly what I had ahead of an 8am appointment the next morning.
My biggest problem today is that the heating went out in the apartment (a man is coming at 10am) and that I need a catsitter for thanksgiving (I need to be in London for a Visa thing)
The odds of my being here were slim Slimmer even than my odds of still being here next year - but to date all is good and I'm doing fine.
I get to see Judith moving into the next stage of her life (she left at 5.30am this morning for the last of a bunch of interviews in various Universities)
I get to go to the gym (!)
And of course I get to curl up on the sofa with my wife, a glass of wine, some veggie chips and the final weeks of all of our favorite TV shows knowing that, really, the key to happiness is found at home.
It's odd being a year on from last November. And from those first two months of tests, more tests and constant uncertainty. It's odd making plans for the future. It's odd thinking that I'm still writing this bloody thing 9 months after my 'dead by' date passed.
But here I am.
Time I think for a rousing chorus of "I'm Still Here" - the Shirley McClaine version I think
A year since getting home and finding a message from the doctor that I should call straight away.
And a year since I sat on this chair, at this computer trying to figure out exactly what I had ahead of an 8am appointment the next morning.
My biggest problem today is that the heating went out in the apartment (a man is coming at 10am) and that I need a catsitter for thanksgiving (I need to be in London for a Visa thing)
The odds of my being here were slim Slimmer even than my odds of still being here next year - but to date all is good and I'm doing fine.
I get to see Judith moving into the next stage of her life (she left at 5.30am this morning for the last of a bunch of interviews in various Universities)
I get to go to the gym (!)
And of course I get to curl up on the sofa with my wife, a glass of wine, some veggie chips and the final weeks of all of our favorite TV shows knowing that, really, the key to happiness is found at home.
It's odd being a year on from last November. And from those first two months of tests, more tests and constant uncertainty. It's odd making plans for the future. It's odd thinking that I'm still writing this bloody thing 9 months after my 'dead by' date passed.
But here I am.
Time I think for a rousing chorus of "I'm Still Here" - the Shirley McClaine version I think
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Heading Home
The Virgin lounge at Heathrow is playing easy listening dance music - the modern day elevator music. But at least it's a step closer to home. I'm not good at strange offices, strange new people and stranger hotels. Maybe it's an age thing. Maybe its my obsession with my weight and the fear that every day away seems to see me slipping farther away from the gym and towards the slub in a suit demeanor of the people around me.
The week here was pretty pointless - I didn't get to change the work, to present it or really to comment upon it. I did add expensively flown in numbers to what was a meeting chock full of expensively flown in people.
Anyway the flight is on time I'm told and I should make it home by about 13.30 - so right now all is well with the world
The week here was pretty pointless - I didn't get to change the work, to present it or really to comment upon it. I did add expensively flown in numbers to what was a meeting chock full of expensively flown in people.
Anyway the flight is on time I'm told and I should make it home by about 13.30 - so right now all is well with the world
Friday, November 10, 2006
Dr Who in Cardiff
They filmed this year's Dr. Who Xmas special in Cardiff. I mention this only because it features Catherine Tate - who I watched last night on TV.
The US closes down most of the TV shows in early December and the idea of Xmas specials beyond talk show and game show hosts in hats is unfathomable. It's a shame really because Xmas TV in the UK really is family TV and there's not enough of that.
Of course the first Xmas reality show will be huge... Carol Idol
The US closes down most of the TV shows in early December and the idea of Xmas specials beyond talk show and game show hosts in hats is unfathomable. It's a shame really because Xmas TV in the UK really is family TV and there's not enough of that.
Of course the first Xmas reality show will be huge... Carol Idol
Thursday, November 09, 2006
The Milestone Hotel
Well this is today's hotel in my ever moving hotel tour of London and it's all rather nice. Eastern European doorman, 50s faced northerners behind the concierge desk, stout receptionists in sensible shoes, mint on your pillow, Laura Ashley on your duvet, Union Jack flying, unused pool owning, floorboard creaking, porn disguising (special offer 24 hour internet access that just happens to unlock all porn) and overlooking the park. A shame then that it's miles from anywhere you'd want to be and seems to repel taxis.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Outrageous
so, having spent $900 on a one night stay in what could best be described as a hotel that had seen its heyday at around the same time as Cyndi Lauper had seen hers I've now moved to another hotel so far north of the office it comes with its own sled and team of huskies.
My, isn't London expensive?
And yet it's packed with Bentleys - you can't move for them - each looking for all the world like a Chrysler 300 - but with more fake looking wood. I'm amazed at the number of people here who seem to be rolling in dough - and it's not just the Russians and their 'model girlfriends'... it is (it seems) everybody but me.
I watched a while this morning as a group of young guys set about sweeping the leaves from the street outside a row of expensive houses. Moving carefully between the tonnes and tonnes of expensive German sheet metal they barely seemed to cast a glance upward. Which made me wonder - where are the riots? where is the class war? why haven't the Prosche drivers been garrotted.
At least in the US we have the good sense to place the disenfranchised well away from the people with money. In places like New Orleans. And where proximity is forced (LA for example) we build large electric fences and have them patrolled by trigger happy young men with something to prove. This, it seems to me, is entirely sensible and neccessary.
Yet the Brits seem to work on their own particular caste system - on people knowing their place and believing that what they have is what they ought to have. There's a satisfaction here that amazes me - a carefully balanced social system too delicate even to be examined.
I'll stop meandering and try to get to a point - if you want me I'll be out keying Mercs
My, isn't London expensive?
And yet it's packed with Bentleys - you can't move for them - each looking for all the world like a Chrysler 300 - but with more fake looking wood. I'm amazed at the number of people here who seem to be rolling in dough - and it's not just the Russians and their 'model girlfriends'... it is (it seems) everybody but me.
I watched a while this morning as a group of young guys set about sweeping the leaves from the street outside a row of expensive houses. Moving carefully between the tonnes and tonnes of expensive German sheet metal they barely seemed to cast a glance upward. Which made me wonder - where are the riots? where is the class war? why haven't the Prosche drivers been garrotted.
At least in the US we have the good sense to place the disenfranchised well away from the people with money. In places like New Orleans. And where proximity is forced (LA for example) we build large electric fences and have them patrolled by trigger happy young men with something to prove. This, it seems to me, is entirely sensible and neccessary.
Yet the Brits seem to work on their own particular caste system - on people knowing their place and believing that what they have is what they ought to have. There's a satisfaction here that amazes me - a carefully balanced social system too delicate even to be examined.
I'll stop meandering and try to get to a point - if you want me I'll be out keying Mercs
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Monday, November 06, 2006
London
Flying to London tonight... my return has been delayed so not back until Saturday now but at least the delay means that I get to take the purple plane back and to feel like a proper Jetrosexual.
More stuff from London when I get there. If you're in London and wanna drink / dance / cook me dinner then leave a comment - I promise to get back to you
More stuff from London when I get there. If you're in London and wanna drink / dance / cook me dinner then leave a comment - I promise to get back to you
Sunday, November 05, 2006
I started to cough today...
... and whilst rationally I know that people get coughs in winter I can feel death's warm stench damp upon my neck.
More scared today than I've ever been. Weird huh? The threat of disease being more terrifying than the presence of disease.
Time to pull myself together, get on a plane and talk food with people who don't respect my opinion (again) all the while mourning for my lost sense of triviality.
More scared today than I've ever been. Weird huh? The threat of disease being more terrifying than the presence of disease.
Time to pull myself together, get on a plane and talk food with people who don't respect my opinion (again) all the while mourning for my lost sense of triviality.
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