Having been in London for a day or two, writing things on bits of paper with a scented marker I came home (on the last plane to allow toothpaste as carry on) and started visiting bars to talk to barmen about the beers that they sell.
This afternoon will be spent wandering from door to door, having a few drinks, asking a few questions and getting paid to do it. Well not quite - I won''t be getting paid; I'm officially working the weekend, for which there is no extra money. Damn.
Miami Vice last night happened to be the most laughable movie I've seen in quite some time. Guffaws met ever one of Coilin Farrell's tortured looks of consternation and every loving camera sweep of Jamie Foxx's butt. The 'hot chick' spoke english only phonetically and the whole thing looked grey and speckled enough to ensure that 1000s unfortunate enough to rent this on DVD will be getting up to check the disk and their connection leads.
Jude in Atlanta this week - conferencing - so I'm getting used to being home alone. She's gonna be in Sweden Sept 6th to 18th - catching up with friends and working on her thesis. Wanted shorter but I had airmiles to use up and those were the available dates.
Need to feed the dog, walk the dog, talk to some barmen and then head out to a rooftop party (the sun is shining, the sky is brilliant blue, there's NO humidity and temps are in the upper 20s)
Life has been worse
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Friday, August 11, 2006
Sunday is a day to shout about
Sunday Lunch is a tradition in England that steadfastly refuses to die.
People who assiduously avoid the stove all week will, for some reason, dust off the pressure cookers, turn up the gas to high and come over all Nigella Lawson (better than cumming all over Nigella Lawson - there's a Brit gag to make you gag).
Across the nation vegetables are over cooked, meat is heated past the point of charring - being allowed out of the oven only when it's threatening to pass the tipping point on the way to diamond and grandparents are invited over to share in this tradition of culinary disaster.
My parent's house is no different to any other on the street when it comes to Sunday Lunch. Ed the Ted (my mom's mom) comes over and is joined by my dad's dad. My mom flies around the kitchen, fighting her way through the steam whilst my dad does all of the manly things - which seems to entail removing lumps (from gravy, from mashed potatoes, from that orange pile of veg that might once have been a carrot, was then a puree and is now a soupy sauce) and carving meat with an electric knife held together with bits of tape.
Meanwhile the oldsters scream out cross word puzzle clues to each other and talk about the price of bingo markers, tripe and rain hoods. Or thery would if they were properly old - instead they talk about soccer players, soccer player's wives, Israel, the Lebanon and the racist attitudes of people generations younger than themselves.
Only half the conversation is heard - above the noise of electric carving, steam and whistling hearing aid batteries but it's a good time. A very good time. And it makes me appreciate that it's not what you eat but how you eat that matters.
People who assiduously avoid the stove all week will, for some reason, dust off the pressure cookers, turn up the gas to high and come over all Nigella Lawson (better than cumming all over Nigella Lawson - there's a Brit gag to make you gag).
Across the nation vegetables are over cooked, meat is heated past the point of charring - being allowed out of the oven only when it's threatening to pass the tipping point on the way to diamond and grandparents are invited over to share in this tradition of culinary disaster.
My parent's house is no different to any other on the street when it comes to Sunday Lunch. Ed the Ted (my mom's mom) comes over and is joined by my dad's dad. My mom flies around the kitchen, fighting her way through the steam whilst my dad does all of the manly things - which seems to entail removing lumps (from gravy, from mashed potatoes, from that orange pile of veg that might once have been a carrot, was then a puree and is now a soupy sauce) and carving meat with an electric knife held together with bits of tape.
Meanwhile the oldsters scream out cross word puzzle clues to each other and talk about the price of bingo markers, tripe and rain hoods. Or thery would if they were properly old - instead they talk about soccer players, soccer player's wives, Israel, the Lebanon and the racist attitudes of people generations younger than themselves.
Only half the conversation is heard - above the noise of electric carving, steam and whistling hearing aid batteries but it's a good time. A very good time. And it makes me appreciate that it's not what you eat but how you eat that matters.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
My brother has a baby
i can't spell her first name - Elanor? - but her middle name is Grace
I don't know her surname either - which is all very modern I'm sure.
anyway she's rather lovely, seems remarkably advanced for her age and seems to be especially well behaved in the eating, sleeping, not peeing on your Versace departments.
Redcar was good - cheap Prada, Cheap Vivienne Westwood, lots of family, too much cigarette smoke (that's england)
london was expensive but I developed a love for Mews streets. Visited three.
Jude's brother lives in a mews house that he shares with a number of flies attracted by the scent of the sweat eminating from the clothes he's seen fit to have strewn hither and thither across the limited floor space. In that London way it's cute whilst being murderously expensive.
The Mews I found in Knightsbridge was gorgeous, had a couple of good (if smoky) pubs and sold studio apts (flats!) for $2.5m. Pah!
And the final mews house was a photographer's studio with white walls, white tables and white coffee cups that set off the chocolate topped cappucinos to great effect.
Celebrities? Danny baker nearly getting hit by a cab as he moved at remarkable pace across a pedestrian crossing - and ex-boss, diamond top dog and all around good egg David Lamb (alas on his phone and moving too fast to catch)
Ate dinner at langham's - again overpriced, over familiar and mediocre but the company was good.
Flight back delayed (many were being cancelled around me) - got in at 1am; finished up sonme work, bed by 2am - awake at 5am and sent off yet more thoughts on everything. Will look impressive from across the Pond - but was really jet lag and boredonm combining to give the illusion of industry.
Heading for work - a beer pitch and another weekend I think. Jude will be away at academy and the office will let me take the dog with me so I really don't mind.
How are y'all?
I don't know her surname either - which is all very modern I'm sure.
anyway she's rather lovely, seems remarkably advanced for her age and seems to be especially well behaved in the eating, sleeping, not peeing on your Versace departments.
Redcar was good - cheap Prada, Cheap Vivienne Westwood, lots of family, too much cigarette smoke (that's england)
london was expensive but I developed a love for Mews streets. Visited three.
Jude's brother lives in a mews house that he shares with a number of flies attracted by the scent of the sweat eminating from the clothes he's seen fit to have strewn hither and thither across the limited floor space. In that London way it's cute whilst being murderously expensive.
The Mews I found in Knightsbridge was gorgeous, had a couple of good (if smoky) pubs and sold studio apts (flats!) for $2.5m. Pah!
And the final mews house was a photographer's studio with white walls, white tables and white coffee cups that set off the chocolate topped cappucinos to great effect.
Celebrities? Danny baker nearly getting hit by a cab as he moved at remarkable pace across a pedestrian crossing - and ex-boss, diamond top dog and all around good egg David Lamb (alas on his phone and moving too fast to catch)
Ate dinner at langham's - again overpriced, over familiar and mediocre but the company was good.
Flight back delayed (many were being cancelled around me) - got in at 1am; finished up sonme work, bed by 2am - awake at 5am and sent off yet more thoughts on everything. Will look impressive from across the Pond - but was really jet lag and boredonm combining to give the illusion of industry.
Heading for work - a beer pitch and another weekend I think. Jude will be away at academy and the office will let me take the dog with me so I really don't mind.
How are y'all?
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
remiss
afraid that I've been rather remiss with the old blog posting of late. The excuse - no computer in the London office where, as a guest, I'm low on the priority list when it comes to things like technology.
Have been sleeping remarkably well, though woke with a start at 7am this morning after 6 hrs sleep and consequently feel someone heavy eyed.
London is.... well it's London. Fearfully expensive, horribly class sensitive and full of hidden treasures. I found a Knightsbridge Mews street last night so lovely I forgot my hatred of the city.
I do have to say that the fact that I'm flying home tomorrow is all that's keeping me going today. Role on 5.45 and Virgin pick up!
More and better later
Have been sleeping remarkably well, though woke with a start at 7am this morning after 6 hrs sleep and consequently feel someone heavy eyed.
London is.... well it's London. Fearfully expensive, horribly class sensitive and full of hidden treasures. I found a Knightsbridge Mews street last night so lovely I forgot my hatred of the city.
I do have to say that the fact that I'm flying home tomorrow is all that's keeping me going today. Role on 5.45 and Virgin pick up!
More and better later
Sunday, August 06, 2006
ooh - you cheeky monkey
To James' house for drinks - though my ability to even attempt barometer drinking has been rather dampened by this whole cancer thing. Still good to see Mark and his soon to be wife Margaret, to see Margaret and her 'how soon to be husband' (snap him up dear) and of course the lovely Mr Jim, master of i-tunes and subtitled crap TV. The best of which was an excruitating lottery show hosted by a 'surely this act has worn thin' Dale Winton - though this quiz was run close by Cilla Black arriving at Andrew Lloyd Webber's country pile during 'What should be do about Maria' - a terrible reality show that really does need to transfer to the US (when it will flop)
anyhoo (did I just do that?) time to track down the brother and Baby Eg(g) - this blog thing really is pointless innit?
anyhoo (did I just do that?) time to track down the brother and Baby Eg(g) - this blog thing really is pointless innit?
Saturday, August 05, 2006
A wee short post
Arrived in London yesterday after a 7 hr delay on the plane. I get on, we pull away from the gate, we're no.30 in line for the one runway. Three hours later and we're no.24 and suddenly we don't have enough fuel to get us to London and are heading back to the gate for fuel. Which takes an hour and a half to arrive. Then the crew run out of hours and we wait another hour. The Americans strap on headphones and watch movies on their laptops, the Brits get rather Bean-ish in their semi-autistic way and fume quietlty - occasionally sighing.
I talk to the Scottish crew, get my face rubbed by the 'in-flight beautician' and send e-mail after e-mail out into the ether.
Arrive in London for my meeting late - but make it. Then make it to a pub in Portland Place (£3 on the tube - one way - that's $5.70!!!) where I meet Jude's brother and his lovely girlfriend. Encourage her to forget the rather good book she's writing and instead to churn out a frothy novella filled with deviant sex and vivid descriptions. She looks almost convinced.
Train up to Redcar this morning. E'd up Xtian talks to everyone. Woman next to me stares at Sudoku without filling in a square and a bloke from M'bro loudly declares Rotherham 'a shithole'... home at last.
Second train seems to be full of kooks and weirdos... including one woman who tells me that she has a video of her hamster on her cell-phone whilst her hearing aid whistled and her jumper strained at the seems (you could hear it wanting to give)
That's it for now. Back to m'bro for a pair of prada loafers I think
I talk to the Scottish crew, get my face rubbed by the 'in-flight beautician' and send e-mail after e-mail out into the ether.
Arrive in London for my meeting late - but make it. Then make it to a pub in Portland Place (£3 on the tube - one way - that's $5.70!!!) where I meet Jude's brother and his lovely girlfriend. Encourage her to forget the rather good book she's writing and instead to churn out a frothy novella filled with deviant sex and vivid descriptions. She looks almost convinced.
Train up to Redcar this morning. E'd up Xtian talks to everyone. Woman next to me stares at Sudoku without filling in a square and a bloke from M'bro loudly declares Rotherham 'a shithole'... home at last.
Second train seems to be full of kooks and weirdos... including one woman who tells me that she has a video of her hamster on her cell-phone whilst her hearing aid whistled and her jumper strained at the seems (you could hear it wanting to give)
That's it for now. Back to m'bro for a pair of prada loafers I think
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
It's Jude's B-Day
It's also rather hot.
Been hot under the collar too. Visit to oncologist went well though he stipulated a need for me to stay close to NYC for the nexy three months - so that I can be ready for additional scans, bloodwork and the like.
All routine stuff for somebody who has taken part in a drug trial but rather scuppering any plans I had to move to Europe in the near future. That said I will be in London for a week starting Friday (hurrah!) and in a rather swank Knightsbridge apartment (huzzah!)
After which it's back to the open arms of Uncle Sam where I can get on with a normal life under the watchful eye of a rather protective physician.
Planning on a trip up to Redcar for a day - which really ought to be interesting given that I'm travelling on short notice and owe so many people a visit. Should be fun though.
Lots of other stuff going on too - but the truth is that whilst the 'all clear' from the doctor wasn't a surprise the 'hang on a second matey, you're ours until Xmas' was - so everything rather up in the air.
That said there are opportunities on beer, diamonds and a host of other meaty, knotty problems into which I can sink my oh so fragile teeth.
Been hot under the collar too. Visit to oncologist went well though he stipulated a need for me to stay close to NYC for the nexy three months - so that I can be ready for additional scans, bloodwork and the like.
All routine stuff for somebody who has taken part in a drug trial but rather scuppering any plans I had to move to Europe in the near future. That said I will be in London for a week starting Friday (hurrah!) and in a rather swank Knightsbridge apartment (huzzah!)
After which it's back to the open arms of Uncle Sam where I can get on with a normal life under the watchful eye of a rather protective physician.
Planning on a trip up to Redcar for a day - which really ought to be interesting given that I'm travelling on short notice and owe so many people a visit. Should be fun though.
Lots of other stuff going on too - but the truth is that whilst the 'all clear' from the doctor wasn't a surprise the 'hang on a second matey, you're ours until Xmas' was - so everything rather up in the air.
That said there are opportunities on beer, diamonds and a host of other meaty, knotty problems into which I can sink my oh so fragile teeth.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Breakfast
Lots of meetings today - and lots of meals out.
Breakfast at Michael's, a power breakfasting place on 55th street, where between us we consumed an omlette, some cut fruit on toast and three coffees - and were presented with a bill that totalled $92 + the 20% tip. $110 for breakfast. (!) Cornflakes were $32. And my omlette was crap. Luckily the company was excellent and I had a good time talking with someone who seemed both smart and genuine.
Lunch was somewhere in SoHo at a much cheaper place that served bits of smoked salmon and smaller bits of shop bought sliced brown bread and called it an 'open sandwich' - open bloody liberty I'd say. Still again the company was good (well Scottish which is usually good) and the conversation flowed more freely than the coffee.
Dinner with Jude at a local Thai - starters, main and drinks come in at less than this morning's cornflakes. Good not to have to try to impress (I've been trying to put a safety net under myself by sounding out people on the potential of a new job should the old one suddenly disappear; it looks good - I finally have a reputation)
Jude's Birthday tomorrow. She has gift vouchers for babeland (look it up) and a nice new guitar - she wants to learn. I've been planning on being away for a while but... well that's a different, difficult and not to be told here (yet) story.
More though (and visits to both oncologist and surgeon) tomorrow.
Breakfast at Michael's, a power breakfasting place on 55th street, where between us we consumed an omlette, some cut fruit on toast and three coffees - and were presented with a bill that totalled $92 + the 20% tip. $110 for breakfast. (!) Cornflakes were $32. And my omlette was crap. Luckily the company was excellent and I had a good time talking with someone who seemed both smart and genuine.
Lunch was somewhere in SoHo at a much cheaper place that served bits of smoked salmon and smaller bits of shop bought sliced brown bread and called it an 'open sandwich' - open bloody liberty I'd say. Still again the company was good (well Scottish which is usually good) and the conversation flowed more freely than the coffee.
Dinner with Jude at a local Thai - starters, main and drinks come in at less than this morning's cornflakes. Good not to have to try to impress (I've been trying to put a safety net under myself by sounding out people on the potential of a new job should the old one suddenly disappear; it looks good - I finally have a reputation)
Jude's Birthday tomorrow. She has gift vouchers for babeland (look it up) and a nice new guitar - she wants to learn. I've been planning on being away for a while but... well that's a different, difficult and not to be told here (yet) story.
More though (and visits to both oncologist and surgeon) tomorrow.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Interesting
They just posted this up outside our building... it's all pre-printed poster stuff and there seemed to be a lot of camera equipment laying around as the guy pasted it to the wall - so who knows what it's being used for. But I like it; it's vibrant.
Feeling pretty vibrant myself today. Had an idea so good I want to share it, but can't. It's amazing what doing a good job does to my morale though - it's just lifted me in a way that very little else can. Better still the people that I'm working with recognized it as a good idea. No fighting. No endless explaining. No toys out the the buggy episodes. Marvellous.
Jude's birthday on Wednesday - but with the temperature estimated to be a record breaking 39C and the 'real-feel' set at 46C we'll not be moving about very much in celebration.
Been talking to a bunch of people online about their shopping habits - for a pitch that we're doing. I shared my life (style) with them and they were horrified. Stairs, apartments, no cars, no Wal-mart... how did I cope? I have to say that by the end of the week I was pretty much convinced that they were right. Of course 24 hrs reflection now has me picturing them as the half man - half walrus types that so beset DisneyWorld.
Anyway enough moaning - a proper post tomorrow I swear... and a radiation oncologist visit Weds... let's see what that brings
Feeling pretty vibrant myself today. Had an idea so good I want to share it, but can't. It's amazing what doing a good job does to my morale though - it's just lifted me in a way that very little else can. Better still the people that I'm working with recognized it as a good idea. No fighting. No endless explaining. No toys out the the buggy episodes. Marvellous.
Jude's birthday on Wednesday - but with the temperature estimated to be a record breaking 39C and the 'real-feel' set at 46C we'll not be moving about very much in celebration.
Been talking to a bunch of people online about their shopping habits - for a pitch that we're doing. I shared my life (style) with them and they were horrified. Stairs, apartments, no cars, no Wal-mart... how did I cope? I have to say that by the end of the week I was pretty much convinced that they were right. Of course 24 hrs reflection now has me picturing them as the half man - half walrus types that so beset DisneyWorld.
Anyway enough moaning - a proper post tomorrow I swear... and a radiation oncologist visit Weds... let's see what that brings
weirdly wonderful weekend
so the weekend saw us eating Russian food at Brighton beach, playing 'track and field' in a cool bar, BBQing with the Bosnians and generally having a good time.
Velcro has had a good time too - having learned to escape her area without leaving any trace or clue as to how she does it. Needless to say I woke up this morning to a trail of things stolen from various off limits to the dog goodies - from rubber ducks, via slippers to a wash-cloth. She's cute though.
Flying Virgin was a good experience though the flight back didn't have 'on demand' for movies etc. and I have to say I was disproportionately pissed off. I won't be flying into Newark again.
Best bit of the trip - the blacked out windows on the shiny new Merc that they sent to collect me from the airport. As we glided through Chinatown (a bad wrong turn) at 1am all heads turned to see who was in the back of the thing and I got a wee sniff of fame's aphrodiziac scent.
Back to the NYC office and the hum-drum today. Still it's the little adventures (and the airmiles) that keep me going.
Velcro has had a good time too - having learned to escape her area without leaving any trace or clue as to how she does it. Needless to say I woke up this morning to a trail of things stolen from various off limits to the dog goodies - from rubber ducks, via slippers to a wash-cloth. She's cute though.
Flying Virgin was a good experience though the flight back didn't have 'on demand' for movies etc. and I have to say I was disproportionately pissed off. I won't be flying into Newark again.
Best bit of the trip - the blacked out windows on the shiny new Merc that they sent to collect me from the airport. As we glided through Chinatown (a bad wrong turn) at 1am all heads turned to see who was in the back of the thing and I got a wee sniff of fame's aphrodiziac scent.
Back to the NYC office and the hum-drum today. Still it's the little adventures (and the airmiles) that keep me going.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Back from London
Back (geddit?) from London - where it seemed to be 1950. Everywhere I went gay men lurked in the shadows (SoHo), the Long Grass (Hyde Park) and corner offices (work)... all very strange, but managed to put George Michael into a context where his behavior seemed more British than odd.
Not going to say a lot here as my bath runneth over but the London trip was a bit of a success. I hate being in the London office (nobody knows me, the technology doesn't work, you have to beg for a card to access the bathroom etc.) but I also had a delightful day listening to experts, cooking fish and talking brand turkey with a very international group (Brazil, France, Germany, Holland, Australia, Italy, US etc...)
Anyway now the bath really doesd floweth over
Later
Not going to say a lot here as my bath runneth over but the London trip was a bit of a success. I hate being in the London office (nobody knows me, the technology doesn't work, you have to beg for a card to access the bathroom etc.) but I also had a delightful day listening to experts, cooking fish and talking brand turkey with a very international group (Brazil, France, Germany, Holland, Australia, Italy, US etc...)
Anyway now the bath really doesd floweth over
Later
Thursday, July 27, 2006
London
so a flying vsit to London - to take part in an induction day. I'll be on a lane home tomorrow and not a moment too soon. The traffic is awful, the streets too narrow, the parks full of odd men who lurk in the long grasses, the pound too strong, the accent too thick and the people too Dick Van Dyke. Or something.
Did a walk around Hyde Park (I'm trying to stay awake) and was shocked at how yellow everything was. Especially as people are already remembering the big thunderstorms of the last couple of weeks with a fondness usually researved for the recounting of The Blitz.
Dead on my feet here, time for something sugary I think, home tomorrow!
Steve
Did a walk around Hyde Park (I'm trying to stay awake) and was shocked at how yellow everything was. Especially as people are already remembering the big thunderstorms of the last couple of weeks with a fondness usually researved for the recounting of The Blitz.
Dead on my feet here, time for something sugary I think, home tomorrow!
Steve
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Quite a day
In to the office this morning for a 7am breakfast... my role purely decorative as spaces are limited for the actual 8am meeting so I'm there to "greet and eat" and nothing more.
Tonight I have an overnight flight to London. Land Thursday, come back Friday but it's the flight that tips me over to super dooper Gold status on Virgin and earns me a free companion flight the next time I book - making our planned January trip to Africa significantly cheaper.
Anyway with all the late nights (left the office at 10pm yesterday) and early mornings (6am start this morning) I'm starting to remember what my life used to be like before my body said 'no' and threatened to close down completely.
So this is the last 'silly week' that they'll get out of me - after this I'm chilled, I'm sitting out in the sunshine with my laptop and I'm heading home early; where I shall relax without the aid of alcohol.
Tonight I have an overnight flight to London. Land Thursday, come back Friday but it's the flight that tips me over to super dooper Gold status on Virgin and earns me a free companion flight the next time I book - making our planned January trip to Africa significantly cheaper.
Anyway with all the late nights (left the office at 10pm yesterday) and early mornings (6am start this morning) I'm starting to remember what my life used to be like before my body said 'no' and threatened to close down completely.
So this is the last 'silly week' that they'll get out of me - after this I'm chilled, I'm sitting out in the sunshine with my laptop and I'm heading home early; where I shall relax without the aid of alcohol.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Hurry up and wait
Waiting for a 9am meeting to actually start (it's 11.33 right now) and for London to call me (it's 1948 there and they're still mourning the blitz) and for somebody to in the building to smile with something that approximates genuine warmth.
Meanwhile I'm looking at this guy's pictures - so many of them are great. Wish I had his talent.
Short entry - don't have the energy for anything else.
Meanwhile I'm looking at this guy's pictures - so many of them are great. Wish I had his talent.
Short entry - don't have the energy for anything else.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Where we want to live
Lots of things should be coming to a head today. I hear about a possible short term move out of New York (and out of the US), about a possible new job at another company within New York, about my options should I stay with my current company in New York... though not (yet) about Judith's job options moving forward.
As my Dad might say "It's all go"
Really though all I want is to live in the apartment from which I took this picture. It overlooks McCarren park, has an elevator for the dog, views of the city, is absolutely beautiful and is within our price range.
Or it would be if I could get a mortgage. Nobody wants to insure a mortgage against somebody who has an 80% chance of having a fatal cancer within two years. A brutal but understandable truth.
Anyway this is all tedious, personal stuff. We'll offer it up to the universe and see what karma brings us (to mix religious philosophies)
It is a very cool place though.
As my Dad might say "It's all go"
Really though all I want is to live in the apartment from which I took this picture. It overlooks McCarren park, has an elevator for the dog, views of the city, is absolutely beautiful and is within our price range.
Or it would be if I could get a mortgage. Nobody wants to insure a mortgage against somebody who has an 80% chance of having a fatal cancer within two years. A brutal but understandable truth.
Anyway this is all tedious, personal stuff. We'll offer it up to the universe and see what karma brings us (to mix religious philosophies)
It is a very cool place though.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Hypno-cat
Hypno-cat says "Do exactly as I say. Go to the cupboard. Take out cat food. Feed me."
He's a funny old thing is inky, forever licking at your arms and trying to get your attention (he's been on the desk for every post of this blog I think)
Me? Well I only did an hour or so at work - I'm more into provocation than proof when it comes to initial meetings and it was all getting just a little chart heavy. I think it's better to come clean, to say "we know nothing... yet - but here are some interesting places we'd like to look."
I'd rather leave the analysis until we have official data.
Anyway have to run, writing this while Jude is out with the dog and she'll be back soon as we're half watching Ms Universe (manish jaws very in vogue this year it seems)
More tomorrow, no doubt
He's a funny old thing is inky, forever licking at your arms and trying to get your attention (he's been on the desk for every post of this blog I think)
Me? Well I only did an hour or so at work - I'm more into provocation than proof when it comes to initial meetings and it was all getting just a little chart heavy. I think it's better to come clean, to say "we know nothing... yet - but here are some interesting places we'd like to look."
I'd rather leave the analysis until we have official data.
Anyway have to run, writing this while Jude is out with the dog and she'll be back soon as we're half watching Ms Universe (manish jaws very in vogue this year it seems)
More tomorrow, no doubt
Finding beauty in the differences
Well despite my protestations my first week back at work has been a seven day one. I've arrived early, skipped meals, filled up on crap and left late only to come home and start over on e-mail. Everything I thought that I'd not do in essence. The only good news is that I'm now acutely aware of how badly this kind of behavior can impact your health. I didn't survive cancer to kill myself at work. Of course there's a piece of me that quite likes the fact that I'm no longer wrapped in cotton wool - but that piece is small next to the look of concern on Judith's face as I drag myself home from another day at the office.The picture above is of Redcar's premiere nightclub - Leo's. Many may argue that it's not the top club in my desolate seaside 'home town' - insisting that it's part of the Redcar Triangle into which drugs pour and welfare money disappears. They may be right but Leo's has been there, crumbling on the seafront for aeons with it's mix of downmarket entertainment, lethally spiked 'snakebites' and girls dressed to spite the bitter winds blowing in off the north sea.
I may well be back in the UK within the next week or so, depending on whether a work project comes through. Just a short blast through the place but enough time I'm sure to remind me just how alien I've become to the country on my passport. I will try however to find beauty in the differences between the UK and the other places we've seen rather than seeing only signs of deterioration everywhere - from the production values of the TV shows through to age (and price) of the trains.
Actually that's not a bad mantra against which to live life - "find beauty in the differences"
Right breakfast, dog to groomers, work. Beautiful cereal, beautiful walk, beautiful... something or other
Friday, July 21, 2006
Like, who says I'm, like shallow
So with Jude dancing the silent dance of a woman who’s just seen Travis do a solo before finding a fully charged I-pod and with the animals cowering from a thunder storm that seems boundless in its ability to terrify I find myself with a couple of minutes to bang out something to the blog.
I have no idea what I’m going to write – doubtless it will be more profane than profound but then as one anonymous person here commented we ‘advertising types, like, often mistake shallow sham for profundity.”
Of course they didn’t express it quite that well – but then why waste eloquence on ‘advertising types.’? The Ad Exec. is, of course, Hollywood shorthand for the emotionally stunted, the self centered, the crass, the vulgar… the guy who needs to learn a life lesson.
He’s a professional and personal manipulator. A skilled liar. Duplicitous, deceitful and downright detestable.
And I know ad’ men very much like that. I know dentists, doctors, school crossing guards and supermarket managers like that too.
I also know ad’ people who are empathetic, insightful, human, funny, flawed and rippingly good company. I don’t know any supermarket managers like that – though I guess that there are lots of them out there.
I actually think that what made me bristle about the post was the use of the word “like”… it conveyed a valley girl empty-headedness that I’ve not seen in advertising. Oh we’re many things – arrogant, egotistical, over-paid, over-sexed, self-important, expensively scruffy and at times a little too removed from reality but I’ve yet to hear a good ad’ person that wasn’t concise and precise in their articulation of an idea.
So anonymous, like, say what you will, man; because, like, it’s like totally, you know? Dig?
Does this face look bothered?
I have no idea what I’m going to write – doubtless it will be more profane than profound but then as one anonymous person here commented we ‘advertising types, like, often mistake shallow sham for profundity.”
Of course they didn’t express it quite that well – but then why waste eloquence on ‘advertising types.’? The Ad Exec. is, of course, Hollywood shorthand for the emotionally stunted, the self centered, the crass, the vulgar… the guy who needs to learn a life lesson.
He’s a professional and personal manipulator. A skilled liar. Duplicitous, deceitful and downright detestable.
And I know ad’ men very much like that. I know dentists, doctors, school crossing guards and supermarket managers like that too.
I also know ad’ people who are empathetic, insightful, human, funny, flawed and rippingly good company. I don’t know any supermarket managers like that – though I guess that there are lots of them out there.
I actually think that what made me bristle about the post was the use of the word “like”… it conveyed a valley girl empty-headedness that I’ve not seen in advertising. Oh we’re many things – arrogant, egotistical, over-paid, over-sexed, self-important, expensively scruffy and at times a little too removed from reality but I’ve yet to hear a good ad’ person that wasn’t concise and precise in their articulation of an idea.
So anonymous, like, say what you will, man; because, like, it’s like totally, you know? Dig?
Does this face look bothered?
Nary a whiff
So the office party came and went with nary a whiff of scandal. Finance fannies remained covered - if vigorously shaken. The mailroom didn't start a rousing Viking Skol chorus of 'minge, minge, minge, minge" and not a single creative was caught red handed or genital'd.
All rather adult - perhaps because we all live such debauched lives the rest of the time that a party is a chance to relax without the pressure of 'the crazy ad folk" moniker.
And it is pressure. As the concert violinist / diplomat we had in yesterday said whilst playing the opening of a violent death piece - "pressure, panic, more pressure, death" - it's how a fugue works, it's how most business works.
I woke up this morning tired. And not because I had a curry and a beer with the Lord's Whimsy and Willy last night - but because since I've been back at the agency (5 days now) I've not started work after 8am, not finished work before 8pm, have been to 23 "meetings", a party, have been asked to change jobs, to get on planes, to fix things left undone and - of course - to work the weekend.
Well bollocks to that.
And on that decisive if petty note I shall bid you adieu and call a man I know in Brazil about the differences between retail there and here.
All rather adult - perhaps because we all live such debauched lives the rest of the time that a party is a chance to relax without the pressure of 'the crazy ad folk" moniker.
And it is pressure. As the concert violinist / diplomat we had in yesterday said whilst playing the opening of a violent death piece - "pressure, panic, more pressure, death" - it's how a fugue works, it's how most business works.
I woke up this morning tired. And not because I had a curry and a beer with the Lord's Whimsy and Willy last night - but because since I've been back at the agency (5 days now) I've not started work after 8am, not finished work before 8pm, have been to 23 "meetings", a party, have been asked to change jobs, to get on planes, to fix things left undone and - of course - to work the weekend.
Well bollocks to that.
And on that decisive if petty note I shall bid you adieu and call a man I know in Brazil about the differences between retail there and here.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Office Party Day
It's the office party today. Thankfully the temperature is dropping, so the chance of Mavis from finance turning up half clad and half cut is reduced dramatically.
I've never been one for office parties. I did one in London and saw a guy killed en route to it. Vowed never again - until Asia when the parties were on Indonesian Isles or were 3 day jaunts to fabulous cities (such as Bangkok)
For some strange reason I"ve been to quite a few of the US office parties. The have a penchant for the outdoors, for free drinks that run out soon after people arrive and for letting people from 'the basement department' 'DJ'
This year all of the people that I loved / enjoyed partying with in the NY office have disappeared... either to exciting new places and challenges or to places that offer them money by the boatload (and their chicks for free)
Still I should show up, prove that I'm alive and then jump on the bus home to the busom of my family - hopefully before the busom of Mave the Rave from finance becomes scorched indelibly on my retina.
I've never been one for office parties. I did one in London and saw a guy killed en route to it. Vowed never again - until Asia when the parties were on Indonesian Isles or were 3 day jaunts to fabulous cities (such as Bangkok)
For some strange reason I"ve been to quite a few of the US office parties. The have a penchant for the outdoors, for free drinks that run out soon after people arrive and for letting people from 'the basement department' 'DJ'
This year all of the people that I loved / enjoyed partying with in the NY office have disappeared... either to exciting new places and challenges or to places that offer them money by the boatload (and their chicks for free)
Still I should show up, prove that I'm alive and then jump on the bus home to the busom of my family - hopefully before the busom of Mave the Rave from finance becomes scorched indelibly on my retina.
Monday, July 17, 2006
How bored were we?
My first Monday at work in an aeon and by 4pm I was so desperate for something to do that I engaged with Pilar (the office mate formally known at Mari) in a spot of coffee-table making.
Amazing what you can do with a couple of cast off mannequins, a copy of the excellent but sadly not available in a store near you 'Hold My Skateboard while I kiss your girlfriend' (whilst, surely?) and too much time
Especially when you're bored. And I was bored. My data was showing that people liked to shop at stores located conveniently for them and appreciated fair pricing. More data was being purchased to prove that this was true regardless of how much money you threw at it.
I'm much more interested in the 'dog blanket' theory of shopping. That great prices are just that, great, until they start to attract people looking only to buy Cider and Dog Food - and buy them with the quarters that they've collected during the day. As my friend Kim always said - it's a fine line between thrifty and pikey.
Still I like the pic. MInd if Tuesday is as slow as today turned out to be I may be posting an installation piece made with these dummy's discarded legs.
Amazing what you can do with a couple of cast off mannequins, a copy of the excellent but sadly not available in a store near you 'Hold My Skateboard while I kiss your girlfriend' (whilst, surely?) and too much time
Especially when you're bored. And I was bored. My data was showing that people liked to shop at stores located conveniently for them and appreciated fair pricing. More data was being purchased to prove that this was true regardless of how much money you threw at it.
I'm much more interested in the 'dog blanket' theory of shopping. That great prices are just that, great, until they start to attract people looking only to buy Cider and Dog Food - and buy them with the quarters that they've collected during the day. As my friend Kim always said - it's a fine line between thrifty and pikey.
Still I like the pic. MInd if Tuesday is as slow as today turned out to be I may be posting an installation piece made with these dummy's discarded legs.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Too fat to sunbathe
Call me uncharitable if you must but I’ve just had what should have been a perfect afternoon in the park ruined by people who insisted on removing their shirts despite the bodies that they ‘sported; beneath them.
As the weather got hotter (real-feel 41c) the sea of blue-white veined, gravity obeying flesh on display grew exponentially - until the entire park was alive with the sight of rolls of fat oscillating revoltingly with each step towards next grazing opportunity. And with the sound of saggy tits hitting flabby knee as women barely in contained by oversized, mismatched, bra and panties made beeline for the ice cream van.
It was revolting. A mass of overfed, under-shamed blobs ramming more and more barbequed food into their revolting gullets. Spitting onion as they asked for the next hot-dog, eyes darting around ready to glare at any slack jawed witness to the consequences of their gluttony.
Now I’m not in great shape myself at the moment. Which is why the T-Shirt stays on and the shorts do more than merely cover my nads.
What is it motivates these people? Sure there’s always somebody with a worse body than yours, but then there’s always someone with worse manners than yours and you don’t take a dump in the fruit bowl at dinner, do you?
I felt sorry for the realtors trying to flog their high end apartments with ‘view if the park’ – a view into an abattoir would have been more appealing.
So here’s a plea. Please, fat people of the ‘burg, keep the shirts on and the shorts long. In return I promise not to start a web site called www.see_the_freaks_eat.com and swear that I’ll not post your pictures there. Deal?
As the weather got hotter (real-feel 41c) the sea of blue-white veined, gravity obeying flesh on display grew exponentially - until the entire park was alive with the sight of rolls of fat oscillating revoltingly with each step towards next grazing opportunity. And with the sound of saggy tits hitting flabby knee as women barely in contained by oversized, mismatched, bra and panties made beeline for the ice cream van.
It was revolting. A mass of overfed, under-shamed blobs ramming more and more barbequed food into their revolting gullets. Spitting onion as they asked for the next hot-dog, eyes darting around ready to glare at any slack jawed witness to the consequences of their gluttony.
Now I’m not in great shape myself at the moment. Which is why the T-Shirt stays on and the shorts do more than merely cover my nads.
What is it motivates these people? Sure there’s always somebody with a worse body than yours, but then there’s always someone with worse manners than yours and you don’t take a dump in the fruit bowl at dinner, do you?
I felt sorry for the realtors trying to flog their high end apartments with ‘view if the park’ – a view into an abattoir would have been more appealing.
So here’s a plea. Please, fat people of the ‘burg, keep the shirts on and the shorts long. In return I promise not to start a web site called www.see_the_freaks_eat.com and swear that I’ll not post your pictures there. Deal?
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Girls in Playsuits
Saw this
Loved it
Store just down the road from us
(Drewbic has lots of great local shots on flickr.com... check them out)
Loved it
Store just down the road from us
(Drewbic has lots of great local shots on flickr.com... check them out)
International Man Of Mystery
All sorts of things happening this weekend. Can't really talk about any of them (on pain of death) which makes this blog entry rather redundant, doesn't it?
Read a lovely quote from (notorious short arse) Dudley Moore yesterday. When asked how sexually compatable he was at 5' 2" with a 6' female model he replied "It's easy. I go UP on her."
Made me smile anyway.
Work options opening up like a Christian High School Girl's legs upon the realization that a pledge of chasity is an elastic thing. Feeling wanted for the first time in an absolute age. Which is a GOOD THING.
One thing that near death experience has taught me is the value of savings... you just need some emergency cash, especially when you travel a lot and aren't in any one country's pension scheme. So am following Oprah's rule and 'paying myself first' each month. But work options could mean that I'll be paying myself a whole heap more; leaving Judith a merrier widow when the experimental drugs catch up with me and my body closes down, my internal organs turning to liquid overnight.
Sorry that this, like sex with a woman with osteoporosis, is so disjointed. Next entry will reveal all, I swear.
Read a lovely quote from (notorious short arse) Dudley Moore yesterday. When asked how sexually compatable he was at 5' 2" with a 6' female model he replied "It's easy. I go UP on her."
Made me smile anyway.
Work options opening up like a Christian High School Girl's legs upon the realization that a pledge of chasity is an elastic thing. Feeling wanted for the first time in an absolute age. Which is a GOOD THING.
One thing that near death experience has taught me is the value of savings... you just need some emergency cash, especially when you travel a lot and aren't in any one country's pension scheme. So am following Oprah's rule and 'paying myself first' each month. But work options could mean that I'll be paying myself a whole heap more; leaving Judith a merrier widow when the experimental drugs catch up with me and my body closes down, my internal organs turning to liquid overnight.
Sorry that this, like sex with a woman with osteoporosis, is so disjointed. Next entry will reveal all, I swear.
Friday, July 14, 2006
A room full of swinging dicks
Back to work today… the first day of the rest of my life and already it’s all change. I’m no longer the planner on all things vodka (I’m still not sure why) instead I’ll be spending some time on razors and lots of time on some business with a shiny patina and with mountains of cash attached.
Now the thing about mountains of cash is that they attract dicks. Of the large and swinging variety. The last time I saw so many dicks being so energetically waved was at Dieter’s Blue Light Lounge down one of Bangkok’s dodgier Sois. .
We have all the COs and HOs (Chiefs Of..., Heads Of…) interested. And that means lots of big theories, large scale 'investigations' and much for me to do. .
Two approaches then. The “You’re better paid but I’m better” approach (my preferred) or the “I thought you really had something when you said (insert something they’ve never said)” approach. I’m thinking direct conflict. Not because it works any better but because it will get me heard and make me feel better.
Still you can bet your TV's extended warranty on my pulling lots of faces like the one above before the month is out.
Now the thing about mountains of cash is that they attract dicks. Of the large and swinging variety. The last time I saw so many dicks being so energetically waved was at Dieter’s Blue Light Lounge down one of Bangkok’s dodgier Sois. .
We have all the COs and HOs (Chiefs Of..., Heads Of…) interested. And that means lots of big theories, large scale 'investigations' and much for me to do. .
Two approaches then. The “You’re better paid but I’m better” approach (my preferred) or the “I thought you really had something when you said (insert something they’ve never said)” approach. I’m thinking direct conflict. Not because it works any better but because it will get me heard and make me feel better.
Still you can bet your TV's extended warranty on my pulling lots of faces like the one above before the month is out.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Big nippled prick (y-thing)
Sorry - had to be done
Well 2 comments was all it took to convince me to 'keep on blogging'... I truly am an attention whore.
My parents leave tonight; usually their visiting a place is accompanied by war, pestilence or plague. This time nothing major - just a tornado and some flash flooding, other than that their visit has been uneventful; though the dog has been walked to the point of collapse (always a good thing)
Today's mad rant? That f*ck*ng GE ad where the woman carries a large pink cake with her wherever she goes (including into a public toilet) presumable because she can't find a spot big enough to accommodate said confection. Of course when she arrives at the party still balancing the now ebola covered celebratory dessert she finds that said refridgerator has bags of room and slips the pink plague in with a self satisfied grin. A voice over then tells us that the new GE fridge has an ice dispenser in its door (oh and that it's quite big)
Well how the merry hell did this get through research. I can only think that the 6 women in Jersey focus group (a kind of advertising Supreme Court) were too pissed on free Hungarian Red to raise voice in concern and that the 106 women that they stopped in a mall for the quant' work (a kind of bogus ad' election) were so mesmerized by the thought of cake or too distracted by the view of a pair of Elastic Waisted pastel Capri pants in the window of Old Navy that they merely drooled their response.
GE fridges - they're for filthy, OCD whores who'd rather poison your party than put down an over iced, under decorated bit of sponge. That you? Buy away
Well 2 comments was all it took to convince me to 'keep on blogging'... I truly am an attention whore.
My parents leave tonight; usually their visiting a place is accompanied by war, pestilence or plague. This time nothing major - just a tornado and some flash flooding, other than that their visit has been uneventful; though the dog has been walked to the point of collapse (always a good thing)
Today's mad rant? That f*ck*ng GE ad where the woman carries a large pink cake with her wherever she goes (including into a public toilet) presumable because she can't find a spot big enough to accommodate said confection. Of course when she arrives at the party still balancing the now ebola covered celebratory dessert she finds that said refridgerator has bags of room and slips the pink plague in with a self satisfied grin. A voice over then tells us that the new GE fridge has an ice dispenser in its door (oh and that it's quite big)
Well how the merry hell did this get through research. I can only think that the 6 women in Jersey focus group (a kind of advertising Supreme Court) were too pissed on free Hungarian Red to raise voice in concern and that the 106 women that they stopped in a mall for the quant' work (a kind of bogus ad' election) were so mesmerized by the thought of cake or too distracted by the view of a pair of Elastic Waisted pastel Capri pants in the window of Old Navy that they merely drooled their response.
GE fridges - they're for filthy, OCD whores who'd rather poison your party than put down an over iced, under decorated bit of sponge. That you? Buy away
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Back from Vacation
So we’re back from Anguilla, which was small, quiet and perfect for what we needed. Lots of beaches, occasional great meals in scenic restaurants and the chance to be ‘1000 miles from care’
It doesn’t seem THAT long ago that I was coughing up pieces of lung on the poor people unfortunate enough to be sitting in a room with me on the JetBlue pitch.
Or that long ago that I was crawling to the bathroom in order to throw up what I couldn’t cough up.
Nor does it seem that long ago that that I was walking to the doctor’s office in Greenpoint to be told that I had lymphoma but would ‘probably be alright after a miserable 6 months or so.”
And the six months since then haven’t actually been all that miserable. Certainly not in comparison to the misery that you’re told to expect. But then managing expectations is the key to keeping people happy, this I’ve realized.
I’ve been thin, fat, bald, swollen, nauseous, euphoric, knackered, jelly legged, mercury ankled, optimistic, pessimistic and realistic.
But I’ve never been alone.
And I have you people to thank for that.
What next?
A bigger fight I think. A fight against the prejudice that I’m now, somehow, damaged goods. A fight against work’s new found ‘wrap him in cotton wool’ attitude. A fight against falling back into the acceptance of mediocrity that’s so comfortable a cage.
And some new challenges. The next year should see a new job for Jude. Perhaps a new city or country as a result of that new job (and hopefully a new job for me if a move does happen)
What next? Most importantly a chance to live ‘off schedule’ – without treatment dates and SCAN schedules dominating the calendar.
I’m not sure how much interest there will still be in this blog, now that it doesn’t have the draw of imminent death – add a comment if you’d like to see it continue, otherwise I’ll let it do what I, to date, have not. I’ll let it quietly die.
It doesn’t seem THAT long ago that I was coughing up pieces of lung on the poor people unfortunate enough to be sitting in a room with me on the JetBlue pitch.
Or that long ago that I was crawling to the bathroom in order to throw up what I couldn’t cough up.
Nor does it seem that long ago that that I was walking to the doctor’s office in Greenpoint to be told that I had lymphoma but would ‘probably be alright after a miserable 6 months or so.”
And the six months since then haven’t actually been all that miserable. Certainly not in comparison to the misery that you’re told to expect. But then managing expectations is the key to keeping people happy, this I’ve realized.
I’ve been thin, fat, bald, swollen, nauseous, euphoric, knackered, jelly legged, mercury ankled, optimistic, pessimistic and realistic.
But I’ve never been alone.
And I have you people to thank for that.
What next?
A bigger fight I think. A fight against the prejudice that I’m now, somehow, damaged goods. A fight against work’s new found ‘wrap him in cotton wool’ attitude. A fight against falling back into the acceptance of mediocrity that’s so comfortable a cage.
And some new challenges. The next year should see a new job for Jude. Perhaps a new city or country as a result of that new job (and hopefully a new job for me if a move does happen)
What next? Most importantly a chance to live ‘off schedule’ – without treatment dates and SCAN schedules dominating the calendar.
I’m not sure how much interest there will still be in this blog, now that it doesn’t have the draw of imminent death – add a comment if you’d like to see it continue, otherwise I’ll let it do what I, to date, have not. I’ll let it quietly die.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Two week break
So with treatment over. the thumbs up enthusiastically given, the dog in the hands of the parents – it now being just 12 hrs ahead of our leaving for Anguilla - and with only one unique visitor to the site today – it’s time to wind down fabulouslythin – at least for the next two weeks.
Our flickr (www.flickr.com) pages ( search PEOPLE for stevenjude) will continue to grow and you’re all warmly invited to view them.
And I’m sure that I’ll be back here and trolling for an audience in two weeks or so. But in the mean time I’d like to thank you all for taking the time to read my self absorbed blather. To thank you for your comments, for your e-mails and for your concern.
But it seems apt that I finish this blog as I started it, fascinated by my wife and by what she’s about to do next. Now EBD (everything but dissertation) she’s courting and being courted by potential employers – here and abroad. “What next?” is the question that we’re asking and it’s great to be in a position to ask it.
I should get warm and wise and worldly here but the truth is that I want the time in Anguilla to serve as a punctuation – allowing me to really get to grips with what survival could mean for me – before I say anything.
So, for two weeks at least, I’ll leave you with a thank you… and with a few pictures that show the journey.
Our flickr (www.flickr.com) pages ( search PEOPLE for stevenjude) will continue to grow and you’re all warmly invited to view them.
And I’m sure that I’ll be back here and trolling for an audience in two weeks or so. But in the mean time I’d like to thank you all for taking the time to read my self absorbed blather. To thank you for your comments, for your e-mails and for your concern.
But it seems apt that I finish this blog as I started it, fascinated by my wife and by what she’s about to do next. Now EBD (everything but dissertation) she’s courting and being courted by potential employers – here and abroad. “What next?” is the question that we’re asking and it’s great to be in a position to ask it.
I should get warm and wise and worldly here but the truth is that I want the time in Anguilla to serve as a punctuation – allowing me to really get to grips with what survival could mean for me – before I say anything.
So, for two weeks at least, I’ll leave you with a thank you… and with a few pictures that show the journey.
Friday, June 30, 2006
It's the last day of treatment
It's the last day of treatment
My parents are here
Jude slept 4 hrs
Which kept me up
We're knackered
Too tired for cohesive thought here
More later
My parents are here
Jude slept 4 hrs
Which kept me up
We're knackered
Too tired for cohesive thought here
More later
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
For those of you
who are more interested in how I'm looking than how I'm feeling (the wise and the shallow) here's the latest pic.
Not a great deal to say here
3 more treatments to go, starting earlier today (Bing called at 8 in a right old tizzy, bless her)
The nexium seems to be holding the burning potatoes at bay, the Radiacream holding the worst of the burns at bay and no sign at all of a call from Michael Bay (which is okay, I'm holding out for Bryan Singer to direct the movie of the blog)
Weather continues to suck, weather forecast continues to tease with a 'return of sun in two days' prediction. Gnnnarrrrr
The nexium seems to be holding the burning potatoes at bay, the Radiacream holding the worst of the burns at bay and no sign at all of a call from Michael Bay (which is okay, I'm holding out for Bryan Singer to direct the movie of the blog)
Weather continues to suck, weather forecast continues to tease with a 'return of sun in two days' prediction. Gnnnarrrrr
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
How work feels
This is how work feels at the moment. I'm the baby. Sure the scary looking people may be well intentioned but from where I'm positioned it feels like I'm being led to an altar already awash in baby blood. Not entirely sure what changed to precipitate so many weird moments yesterday - perhaps my imminent return to the fray; but it was very, VERY strange.Never mind it's only a job and only 'for now' as the Ave Q puppets taught me.
Monday, June 26, 2006
I shot the sheriff
Apologies for the gratuitous use of 'blonde' but my sitemeter numbers are flagging and there's nothing like a bit of public nudity to bring in the college kids and Muslim surfers. The latter (said he backpedalling hastily) I'm sure search for public nudity, sex tapes and enormous bazookas purely to serve as evidence of the bankrupcy of the west. And for 'enormous bazookas'
Last week of treatment starts this today, though my enthusiasm has been dampened by the gray skies and mid 20s temps. Sunshine and 30 is only three days away they claim, I hope so - spring spoiled me and now I want gorgeous blue skies, a blazing sun and people dressed inappropriately for their size.
Anyway coffee going cold, dog needing out and Jude stirring - time to haul this carcass off the chair and toward industry.
Last week of treatment starts this today, though my enthusiasm has been dampened by the gray skies and mid 20s temps. Sunshine and 30 is only three days away they claim, I hope so - spring spoiled me and now I want gorgeous blue skies, a blazing sun and people dressed inappropriately for their size.
Anyway coffee going cold, dog needing out and Jude stirring - time to haul this carcass off the chair and toward industry.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
The Mermaid Parade
Well the Mermaid Parade went off yesterday - and boy did it go off.
Went along with my old mucker from Oz - J.Lum and had a fine old time of it. This is about the only picture that I took in which the subjects are clothed to a degree acceptable by law - the rest? Well you'll have to click through and see for yourself.
5 more days of treatment and then I can be at this kind of event without thinking about being the sick person in the crowd.
Went along with my old mucker from Oz - J.Lum and had a fine old time of it. This is about the only picture that I took in which the subjects are clothed to a degree acceptable by law - the rest? Well you'll have to click through and see for yourself.
5 more days of treatment and then I can be at this kind of event without thinking about being the sick person in the crowd.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Jude got a new haircut
to go with her new body...
note amount of orange being worn - patriotism rises as the Dutch progress through the world cup
note amount of orange being worn - patriotism rises as the Dutch progress through the world cup
15 / 20
Treatment 15 / 20 today; so three quarters of the way through what I need to do.
Cool.
Diner 24, Mermaid Parade, BillyBurg short film fest, Pride and a movie this weekend - should get some great pics
Cool.
Diner 24, Mermaid Parade, BillyBurg short film fest, Pride and a movie this weekend - should get some great pics
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Another day, another session
Bit of a weird day today. Heard that one of the accounts I helped bring into the building had won major international awards; which is always good to hear – and proof that good work can get through painfully lax systems.
But on my major account I can’t seem to make myself heard. Frustrating as I have a solution to the problem at hand that’s as simple as it is elegant. Still I appreciate that people are trying to protect me from what is an insanely busy time whilst I’m less than 100%. They’re good people and well intentioned. I just wish I could get stuck in again. Three weeks. And counting.
Visit to the Russian dentist went well despite the screams of the man in the chair in the office next to me and the agonizing gurgles of the man on office beyond him. Nothing really needs doing (a first for this shamefully British mouth) though I’m going to have the woefully substandard crowns taken out and replaced with something that fits below the gum-line. Doubtless it will cost me a testicle, but hey I’ve one to spare and it ain’t doing much.
Check in with radiologist went well. All is good. Platelets down but only to 139 from 142 – so nothing to worry about there. 7 more sessions and they can spit me out of the system. At least until August and my first scans.
Machine broke down n me today as I was being radiated. Long delay by all accounts. I wouldn’t know, I fell asleep. ‘Bing’ found this hilarious and repeat ‘so to sleep, so to sleep’ whilst her shoulders heaved with mirth. It’s hard not to like her – hey I’m not even trying not to like her (but Margaret Cho will play her in the movie)
Enough semi-cryptic meandering – to bed with me
But on my major account I can’t seem to make myself heard. Frustrating as I have a solution to the problem at hand that’s as simple as it is elegant. Still I appreciate that people are trying to protect me from what is an insanely busy time whilst I’m less than 100%. They’re good people and well intentioned. I just wish I could get stuck in again. Three weeks. And counting.
Visit to the Russian dentist went well despite the screams of the man in the chair in the office next to me and the agonizing gurgles of the man on office beyond him. Nothing really needs doing (a first for this shamefully British mouth) though I’m going to have the woefully substandard crowns taken out and replaced with something that fits below the gum-line. Doubtless it will cost me a testicle, but hey I’ve one to spare and it ain’t doing much.
Check in with radiologist went well. All is good. Platelets down but only to 139 from 142 – so nothing to worry about there. 7 more sessions and they can spit me out of the system. At least until August and my first scans.
Machine broke down n me today as I was being radiated. Long delay by all accounts. I wouldn’t know, I fell asleep. ‘Bing’ found this hilarious and repeat ‘so to sleep, so to sleep’ whilst her shoulders heaved with mirth. It’s hard not to like her – hey I’m not even trying not to like her (but Margaret Cho will play her in the movie)
Enough semi-cryptic meandering – to bed with me
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
A wasted afternoon
Spent the afternoon in the pikiest dentist known to man. People were seen in order of familiarity. I was a new patient. So I waited. Taking in the vague whiff of dog blanket, the hasidic conversation, the screaming children and the bitter Polish receptionist. Then I left.
Tomorrow I try a Russian dentist. This one graduated in 1996 (the previous in 1966)... here's hoping he sticks to the clock
Tomorrow I try a Russian dentist. This one graduated in 1996 (the previous in 1966)... here's hoping he sticks to the clock
Still kicking
Ok so I have no chin, I look more like Moby every day and I seem to be obsessed with taking pictures from above - but for all of you wondering just how sick you'll find me should you visit here's the answer - not very sick at all.
Radiation at 1pm
Dentist at 3.30pm (and the shame of opening a british mouth in front of American dental professionals)
and then home to watch a TiVo'd England : Sweden
yahoo~!
Radiation at 1pm
Dentist at 3.30pm (and the shame of opening a british mouth in front of American dental professionals)
and then home to watch a TiVo'd England : Sweden
yahoo~!
Monday, June 19, 2006
Hot potato, knackered back
Ever swallowed a really hot potato and felt it burning your chest as it moved with an agonizing lack of pace down your gullet? That's exactly how every bite of food, hot / cold, large or small feels right now.
To compound the misery I seem to have pulled something in my back and can't get comfortable at all. Every Velcro tug on the leash is agony - luckily it's 34c and too hot for Velcro to tug, instead she plods, forlorn.
Had to cancel a lunch and plans for a birthday party tonight and 'bad back' is a flimsy excuse even when it's a genuine ailment. Feel awful and dishonest and just crap - when I should be feeling nothing but the vicodin coming up.
anyway short post as this chair hurts more than the sofa
To compound the misery I seem to have pulled something in my back and can't get comfortable at all. Every Velcro tug on the leash is agony - luckily it's 34c and too hot for Velcro to tug, instead she plods, forlorn.
Had to cancel a lunch and plans for a birthday party tonight and 'bad back' is a flimsy excuse even when it's a genuine ailment. Feel awful and dishonest and just crap - when I should be feeling nothing but the vicodin coming up.
anyway short post as this chair hurts more than the sofa
Sunday, June 18, 2006
A posh day
We had a great day today - the last day that we had use of Shruti's car.
We loaded Velcro into the back and headed for NJ (surprisingly posh) where the dog got to run (and run and run) around the yard / pool / house chased by a gorgeous brown lab retriever, we got to see some fantastically athletic horses battling the 35c heat and the day ended, as all days should with visiting South Africans, Rooibos tea, a hearty, fresh dinner and a real family feeling.
Fantastic day - and enough to make me yearn for the suburbs (if not another 'extreme commute'_
We loaded Velcro into the back and headed for NJ (surprisingly posh) where the dog got to run (and run and run) around the yard / pool / house chased by a gorgeous brown lab retriever, we got to see some fantastically athletic horses battling the 35c heat and the day ended, as all days should with visiting South Africans, Rooibos tea, a hearty, fresh dinner and a real family feeling.
Fantastic day - and enough to make me yearn for the suburbs (if not another 'extreme commute'_
Saturday, June 17, 2006
The baby Jesus
Somebody this week refused to believe that upon having been diagnosed with cancer I hadn't immediately fallen to my knees and offered up prayer.
Their argument was that, in times of trouble, EVERYBODY turns to prayer. But I can honestly say that I didn't. It really didn't occur to me. Now I know that some people have offered up prayers, lit candles and generally taken the time out to think about me and to those people I am grateful.
But the idea that I'd suddenly use prayer as a get out of jail card strikes me as more than a little strange.
And this person's insisting that I MUST have turned to prayer; that I was lying got further up my nose than the cat dander floating around our place.
Still it gave me a chance to use this pic - the Jesus in question beinng affixed to the rooftop of a house in a local Italian neighborhood.
Their argument was that, in times of trouble, EVERYBODY turns to prayer. But I can honestly say that I didn't. It really didn't occur to me. Now I know that some people have offered up prayers, lit candles and generally taken the time out to think about me and to those people I am grateful.
But the idea that I'd suddenly use prayer as a get out of jail card strikes me as more than a little strange.
And this person's insisting that I MUST have turned to prayer; that I was lying got further up my nose than the cat dander floating around our place.
Still it gave me a chance to use this pic - the Jesus in question beinng affixed to the rooftop of a house in a local Italian neighborhood.
Friday, June 16, 2006
So the pics have been random
but this is what I come home to most days... a bewildered looking dog, a mass of visible wires and a rug that still smells of India despite constant beating (it didn't work on Jude either)
have to say I love it here
have to say I love it here
Half way through radiation
Today marks the half way stage in radiation and so far so good. I have a bit of a cough, sore ankles and the arches of my feet are murder in the mornings but other than that I'm pretty good. Treatment is much more jovial than chemotherapy - lots of laughter, lots of chat with the nurses. I guess seeing people daily helps, as does not having to hand them a bucket to throw up in whilst you try not to burst their veins as you inject poison.
Chemo did make me realize just how easy, how varied and how effective torture could be. There are a thousand ways to inflict pain on somebody and their bodies have a response distinct from their brains. I for one was determined not tp throw up during the 'orange gloop' stage. I prepared, I ate nothing. I breathed deep. I thought verdant forests of unusual fecundity. Then I saw orange and threw up. Imagine if it had been electrodes on the bollocks.
Anyway radiation is far from torture. Though the heat might be torture this weekend - the last weekend of spring has temps at 32C and us at a polo match. If the heat don't get ya the horsiness will.
Aircon still placed in the living room window (too close to the fire escape but what the hell, there's no-one above us and it doesn't block our exit) and it's working, Last year we obeyed the law, put the aircon in the bedroom window and sweltered, never again!
And on that emphatic punctuation I shall leave you. Bon Weekend.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Another day, another session
On my way to radiation yesterday I found a great little pub, full of old ladies, young navvies and slumming business men all trying to make sense of the World Cup whilst eating vast portions of very wel battered fish.
It was a day for overheard conversations
"Of course the Tunisians should be good. I've heard that the Eastern Europeans practice 18 hrs a day"
"Europe has to be 6 hrs behind us, if it was 6 hrs ahead we'd not be eating lunch"
And then, loudly, in the waiting room of the doctor's surgery
"I've maxxed out two credit cards on this and I'm not maxing out another. We should have let your mother die years ago, 'cause she has the money and she's not sending any our way"
Radiation going okay. First signs of a sore throat today, but nothing major and a doctor who seemed very happy with my progress through the sessions to date.
I even managed to get a phone number out of one of the nurses - must be the newly and rapidly growing hair
It was a day for overheard conversations
"Of course the Tunisians should be good. I've heard that the Eastern Europeans practice 18 hrs a day"
"Europe has to be 6 hrs behind us, if it was 6 hrs ahead we'd not be eating lunch"
And then, loudly, in the waiting room of the doctor's surgery
"I've maxxed out two credit cards on this and I'm not maxing out another. We should have let your mother die years ago, 'cause she has the money and she's not sending any our way"
Radiation going okay. First signs of a sore throat today, but nothing major and a doctor who seemed very happy with my progress through the sessions to date.
I even managed to get a phone number out of one of the nurses - must be the newly and rapidly growing hair
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Eve of Destruction
So far so good on the radiation front, no major side effects, no major reactios, no real fatigue. I see the doctor today (just because it's Wednesday) so doubtless today's session will take forever and involve more blood than a Hammer slasher movie but so be it.
Construction started on one of the FIVE new condo blocks going up around us; well destruction did, they're knocking down the original building and are having a noisy old time of it.
Still the weather is good for them - it's 27 today and will gain 1C every day for the next week, so at least there's the prospect of topless workmen at whom we can whistle (it confuses them) to look forward to.
Have tickets for the US Open tennis, a sofa arriving today, the dog at my feet and a British commentator on the football today - life is good
Construction started on one of the FIVE new condo blocks going up around us; well destruction did, they're knocking down the original building and are having a noisy old time of it.
Still the weather is good for them - it's 27 today and will gain 1C every day for the next week, so at least there's the prospect of topless workmen at whom we can whistle (it confuses them) to look forward to.
Have tickets for the US Open tennis, a sofa arriving today, the dog at my feet and a British commentator on the football today - life is good
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Work, work, work
I really do want to go back to work proper - rather than the hanging around the office hoping to catch snippets that I might be able to help with version of work that I'm doing at the moment.
Went in yesterday and started snapping the Smirnoff team for a LIVESTRONG series that I'm hoping will be something that I can print, frame and auction for 'Lance's lot'
Anyway more radiation today, a talk with a dentist (the teeth not in great shape but can't do any major work until after the radiation for fear of infection and prolonged bleeding), the Brazil match, a talk with some people who (flatteringly) might want to employ me and then dinner with the people who do.
So almost an average day
Went in yesterday and started snapping the Smirnoff team for a LIVESTRONG series that I'm hoping will be something that I can print, frame and auction for 'Lance's lot'
Anyway more radiation today, a talk with a dentist (the teeth not in great shape but can't do any major work until after the radiation for fear of infection and prolonged bleeding), the Brazil match, a talk with some people who (flatteringly) might want to employ me and then dinner with the people who do.
So almost an average day
Monday, June 12, 2006
How's this for scary?
There was a line in 'The L Word' that struck home with me. As Dana lost her hair to radiation and weight to nausea she said "I'm not sick, I'm disappearing"... I haven't felt that way - and yet I look at this and all I can see where she was coming from - only the 'face furniture specs' give me any features
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Remember when this was a cancer blog?
I thought that it was about time that I talked about cancer, or lack thereof again.
I've said this a lot over the past few months but my impressions of cancer treatment were entirely shaped by made for TV movies and the tabloid press.
'FIGHT' was the word that came to mind when it came to cancer.
Cancer was something against which celebrities 'Bravely Battled.' Treatment was a private war, fought out of sight of the world - usually with an unhappy conclusion.
Weirdly though the reality has been altogether gentler. It's not about fighting at all, but accepting. Not about being brave but being optionless. Not revelatory but rather mundane.
The reality of cancer treatment is that it's routine. A routine of visitations, treatments and pills. Marks and milestones on calendars.
The reality of cancer is that it changes nothing. Other than your ability to function. You don't come out of the other side a better, wiser or different person. You come out a balder, heavier, more scarred and more tattoo'd person (well in my case)
But there's nothing brave or pugilistic about it. Sure your routine changes but that's about all.
Will I be a kinder person moving forward? Probably not. Will I be more empathetic - probably. I've met and talked with a lot of people over the past 8 months. They've shared stories with me, a stranger, that they wouldn't with their families and friends (precisely because those people care) and I've witnessed too much warmth to not have been affected.
I'll be better at my job. I'll think more about the future (knowing that people will survive you puts you in a position of wanting to make the transistion to surviving alone as comfortable as possible), I'll talk more and I'll listen more intently.
Perhaps then I am changed. Just not violently. But then the violence of cancer treatment really does seem to be a TV movie fiction.
I've said this a lot over the past few months but my impressions of cancer treatment were entirely shaped by made for TV movies and the tabloid press.
'FIGHT' was the word that came to mind when it came to cancer.
Cancer was something against which celebrities 'Bravely Battled.' Treatment was a private war, fought out of sight of the world - usually with an unhappy conclusion.
Weirdly though the reality has been altogether gentler. It's not about fighting at all, but accepting. Not about being brave but being optionless. Not revelatory but rather mundane.
The reality of cancer treatment is that it's routine. A routine of visitations, treatments and pills. Marks and milestones on calendars.
The reality of cancer is that it changes nothing. Other than your ability to function. You don't come out of the other side a better, wiser or different person. You come out a balder, heavier, more scarred and more tattoo'd person (well in my case)
But there's nothing brave or pugilistic about it. Sure your routine changes but that's about all.
Will I be a kinder person moving forward? Probably not. Will I be more empathetic - probably. I've met and talked with a lot of people over the past 8 months. They've shared stories with me, a stranger, that they wouldn't with their families and friends (precisely because those people care) and I've witnessed too much warmth to not have been affected.
I'll be better at my job. I'll think more about the future (knowing that people will survive you puts you in a position of wanting to make the transistion to surviving alone as comfortable as possible), I'll talk more and I'll listen more intently.
Perhaps then I am changed. Just not violently. But then the violence of cancer treatment really does seem to be a TV movie fiction.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Jude and her books
if ever you need to find Jude - have a little sniff of the air for the smell of dusty book jacket - then follow the scent. The woman is surrounded by books 24/7 - it's all very late 19th century.
One week into radiation
One week into radiation and the hair is growing stronger as the teeth grow weaker (another one chipped yesterday)... mind my eyebrows are BLIUE.
Bing (my nurse, I know - nursed by an 80's gaming sound effect) had warned me of both; not much I can do to influence either. Mind if the mouth REALLY dries, threatening the teeth, then it's time to swap spit with an android and go to 'artificial saliva' (yum)
Not much to report here, still bald, still fat, still making it unaided to the radiation sessions (walked from 14th to 72nd yesterday).. let's hope it stays thay way
Bing (my nurse, I know - nursed by an 80's gaming sound effect) had warned me of both; not much I can do to influence either. Mind if the mouth REALLY dries, threatening the teeth, then it's time to swap spit with an android and go to 'artificial saliva' (yum)
Not much to report here, still bald, still fat, still making it unaided to the radiation sessions (walked from 14th to 72nd yesterday).. let's hope it stays thay way
Friday, June 09, 2006
Ah the World Cup
the World Cup starts today - hurrah!
A chance to be misguidedly and fleetingly patriotic, jingoistic, xenophobic and ultimately disappointed.
A chance to wear 'replica' shirts of scratchy Nylon, to sing offensive songs and to openly sneer at the rest of Europe.
A chance to hang a flag without seeming American, for the middle class to behave in what they imagine to be working class fashion - all loutishness, gutteral consonants and beery homo-erotica.
A chance for the newspapers to dust off their best puns, for the TV networks to besy off their best pundits and for the supermarkets to sell off their nest Punjabi Vindaloos.
Unless of course you live in the US - where it's a chance to rediscover ESPN2 - home of International Paintballing and the World Soccer Cup
Pah!
A chance to be misguidedly and fleetingly patriotic, jingoistic, xenophobic and ultimately disappointed.
A chance to wear 'replica' shirts of scratchy Nylon, to sing offensive songs and to openly sneer at the rest of Europe.
A chance to hang a flag without seeming American, for the middle class to behave in what they imagine to be working class fashion - all loutishness, gutteral consonants and beery homo-erotica.
A chance for the newspapers to dust off their best puns, for the TV networks to besy off their best pundits and for the supermarkets to sell off their nest Punjabi Vindaloos.
Unless of course you live in the US - where it's a chance to rediscover ESPN2 - home of International Paintballing and the World Soccer Cup
Pah!
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Where's the Sun?
After a May that was all sun we're now into a wet, gray and miserable June. Weather guys keep forcasting a break two days hence, but it seems that the sun is always two days away.
This makes the schlep up to the hospital (and it is a schlep; the Upper East side is a schelp even in resident's language) all the more frustrating.
Still at least the torrential rain has stopped; it's cold though (16C) ruining my plan of 4 weeks in the sun, with the dog, during radiation.
This makes the schlep up to the hospital (and it is a schlep; the Upper East side is a schelp even in resident's language) all the more frustrating.
Still at least the torrential rain has stopped; it's cold though (16C) ruining my plan of 4 weeks in the sun, with the dog, during radiation.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
How's radiation?
"How's radiation" seems to be the question of the week. To which the flippant answer is "It's three minutes of high powered toxicity attacking your DNA" but that answrs a different question and anyway I'm not one for flippancy. I don't even like dolphins.
So - radiation is surprisingly timely (they run EARLY). It's surprisingly informal (I've already given up on the changing room in favor of stripping in the equipment room) and it's unbelievably quick (I can be in and out of that place in the time it takes Rachel Ray to whip up a merengue - I know this because the TV in reception is switched to the food network
Side effects will build up as the radiation takes hold and should include irritate sunburned skin, a sore throat, lack of saliva (there go my few remaining teeth) and possible nausea.
The secondary cancers are something that tend to come much later. Well, later.
Administration is simple. Check in with mumbles the male receptionist, settle into your book, get startled by Creeping Moses - the nurse who makes no sound until she coughs "Mr Walls?" into your ear. Up onto the table, head in the mold they made of you, on with the laser guide, a little time being slid from position 'A' to position "A.0" and then everyone leaves, the giant phone receiver hums, the stars on the ceiling glow a little brighter and you're ready for the 15 minute walk back to the subway station (that takes in what we've dubbed 'the Cancer Cafe'; a coffee shop full of worried looking parents and their bald children)
And that's it. Easy, easy, so far very easy.
It'll get harder.
So - radiation is surprisingly timely (they run EARLY). It's surprisingly informal (I've already given up on the changing room in favor of stripping in the equipment room) and it's unbelievably quick (I can be in and out of that place in the time it takes Rachel Ray to whip up a merengue - I know this because the TV in reception is switched to the food network
Side effects will build up as the radiation takes hold and should include irritate sunburned skin, a sore throat, lack of saliva (there go my few remaining teeth) and possible nausea.
The secondary cancers are something that tend to come much later. Well, later.
Administration is simple. Check in with mumbles the male receptionist, settle into your book, get startled by Creeping Moses - the nurse who makes no sound until she coughs "Mr Walls?" into your ear. Up onto the table, head in the mold they made of you, on with the laser guide, a little time being slid from position 'A' to position "A.0" and then everyone leaves, the giant phone receiver hums, the stars on the ceiling glow a little brighter and you're ready for the 15 minute walk back to the subway station (that takes in what we've dubbed 'the Cancer Cafe'; a coffee shop full of worried looking parents and their bald children)
And that's it. Easy, easy, so far very easy.
It'll get harder.
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