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April 25 Sunset And this is it. My new blog, although still in a fairly rough form, is up and live, and entries will be posted there from now on. It is located here, and will still undergo various drastic changes over the next few weeks, as and when I have to time to make them. That's all folks. So long, and thanks for all the fish. April 23 Closing CreditsThis is the beginning of the end for this blog. I am currently in the process of creating and modifying a wordpress blog, which will fully replace this one. The .mac blog has a subscription charge which isn't worth the ease of use, and it lacks a couple of things I am interested in having. A shame, it was good otherwise. Ah well. [melodrama] As for this blog, it will remain live until I pull the trigger on wordpress and it goes online. Until then, this will continue to run. This should not be long, after which this blog will remain here unedited and unchanged for the duration of the existence of msn spaces, into which this was born, and live spaces, in to which it will die. [/melodrama] April 18 Another Pair Of Eyes ...the prospective title for my updated blog, which will be shunted around the web for a while as I test it and customise it and eventually get a domain for it to hang about in. The basic structure and theme is in place, though, along with a couple of photos I took and an entry for you to put comments regarding opinions on. It can be found here. Thoughts appreciated. Ride of Your LifeSaw this in a shopping centre. Not sure what to think really. Government initiative to rebrand speed cameras 'safety cams' to children? Attempt to get people to think of speed camera photos as things you might want as souvenirs? Associate being flashed by a speed camera with fun as a child to increase profit? Trying to reduce public dislike of speed cameras? Teach children to recognise when they've been caught, a decade of so later? Or just an in-character way to take a photo of a child and overcharge massively for it? Or just thinking too much? April 12 The Risk of Death Adrenaline imparts a curious clarity to memories, and
indeed to the moments in which those memories are made. Standing on an
ice-covered boulder over a steep snow gully leading to a likely fatal
fall, without rope or, indeed, anything but the pack on my back, is one
such memory. The thought I most clearly remember from that first ascent
of Tryfan on Thursday afternoon is "I am at risk here." Sure, I wasn't at a ridiculously high risk of death or even a mediocre one; death then would simply not-have-been a freak accident rather than a probable outcome, but I was very aware of it nonetheless. That awareness brings with it a peculiar sharpness though, reflexes sharper, thinking clear (like when you fall off something, that kind of slow-motion crystal-clear thought process) and a litheness of movement. Nothing quite imparts the same feeling as the co-ordination of hands and grips, feet and cracks keeping you to the rock. It was, in a word, awesome. The emphasis on the 'awe'. We topped out on Tryfan at about 5 in the evening, got down in time to cook by the last daylight on our little camping stoves. There was snow everywhere on the mountains, and gloves had to be sacrificed for grip, so hot noodles seemed like heaven on earth. As we ate, we imagined a restaurant review, critiquing the ambience (pitch black lit by an LED lantern, at about 1 degree), the presentation (boil-in-the-bag meals and noodles in a trangia pan) and the range of menu (same as above). Those who know Snowdon will recall the pig track, that 6-foot wide path which goes to the top in a relatively effortless and quiet fashion, without need for undue exertion or, indeed, the use of anything other than feet. Snowdon as it was yesterday was quite another matter, covered in up to about 3 feet of snow (finally seemed appropriately named) and what rocks were visible coated in slush and ice. Although we climbed the leeward side of the mountain, once we went over on to the summit ridge we were blasted by winds that must've been about 50mph, with a full complement of hail and cloud so thick you couldn't see more than ten metres. Oh, and there was spindrift, which I love. It's impossible to convey the sense of achievement and atmosphere that the mountains give, and summiting them does make you feel on top of the world in more ways than one. This time though, we were a bit foolhardy, and despite the low level of risk we all felt lucky. Fantastic 'weekend', and I'm off back to the real world tomorrow. And uni, too. =) Driving "The turning approaches, flick the indicator once again. Left. A weary foot brought up to depress the clutch, dropping the hand to the gearstick, shift. Touch the brake, turn the wheel, foot off the clutch, slowly. Accelerator down, watch the speedometer, hear the engine, shift. Shift." Drive for long enough and it seems your world is behind the wheel. I've driven, in the past 60 hours, for 17 of them, listening with half a mind to twenty questions, watching, changing, braking, lights on, lights off, petrol, empty, petrol. Seems pretty endless, but of course, it isn't. One motorway is much like another, except for the M6 toll, which we avoided. That's what my road tax is for. I'll explain why I was driving so much and so far afield in another entry. For now, I just need lunch. April 08 Son of RambowLast night, as might have been deduced by the title of this blog, I watched 'Son of Rambow'. I'll concede that I fully expected (with it's copyright-law-bypassing title) it to be rubbish, tiring, and a complete waste of two hours of my life. What I actually found was a good film - highly original, very amusing or serious in all the right places, with a distinct British touch to it: no overstated finales, no celluloid group hugs. For those who don't know, the film is about two young boys who end up making a film. One of them is part of a family of Brethren (a religious group who lead a fairly spartan existence, without television or music) and the other is the school troublemaker who has aspirations to win the BBC Screentest film competition. Coincidence drives the boys together and they start filming together, and then as more and more people join the crowd it becomes a test of loyalty and friendship and things turn nasty. For all that, there is an air of lightheartedness throughout the whole thing and a lot of scenes have comedy value as well as their storytelling purpose. I've done a crap job of describing it all here, but I enjoyed it and while I'm not certain that it's everybody's cup of tea, I'm confident that they should give it the time to judge for themselves. 8/10. April 03 DecisionI've decided to go for the Pentax K200D. I excluded the Canon 400D on the basis of it's rather shaky kit lens, the 450D was too expensive, and my hand keeps slipping off the grip at the bottom. Same problem with the Nikon D60. It ended up as a toss-up between the Nikon D80 and the K200D, but the £200 price difference swung it - for that I can get a compact for nights out at uni and massively overspend on it, and not go over what the D80 costs. Both feel really nice though, so it was a close thing. Of course, it's entirely likely that tomorrow all this will change. But for NOW, I'm pretty sure. Probably. Either way, I'll put some shots up once I get it all sorted and take some decent photos, and you can judge for yourself whether it was a good choice =) April 02 IndecisionI've spent much of the day looking at, feeling, groping, handling, and stroking various expensive pieces of photographic equipment. I've spent much of the past week scouring the internet for information about said expensive pieces of photographic equipment, and have amassed a great deal of information about the plethora of options available to me. I've compared the information, I've felt the cameras, I've quizzed the shop staff, I've hunted (to no avail) for two of the potential cameras, and I've found only one thing: Indecision. Endless, eternal indecision! I think "Mmm, that one, because of this.", shortly followed by "But THIS one has THAT function." "What about the kit lens with that third one?" and a whirlwind of indecision later I get back to the first one thinking exactly what I did before. And around we go again... Help! I'm a driven man... March 30 The House of Sand and Fog Possibly the most harrowing film I have ever seen. A slow drama from little things to tragedy. That's all I'll say about it. Christ. Zimbabwe Firstly, for those of you following the election in Zimbabwe on any news source, you probably need not read this entry: much of it is a brief summary of the goings-on over the past 48 hours. Well, the votes are being counted, after a predominantly peaceful but irregular vote:
Personally, I'm hoping for a change, even if for no other reason than that it is not healthy for a country to run a single president for six consecutive terms. We shall see. March 29 Beginnings I was put to thinking about this blog I write by Hannah's entry about the possibility of upgrading. I went back to the very first entry I ever wrote here, cringe-worthy as that might seem, and read about how I wasn't going to write much of a blog, only use this for displaying my brief forays into CG art, the results of which are still in the album section. That was back in October 2005, and this blog was titled after a CG crystal pyramid/tower I created. The name seems spectacularly emo-ish (for want of a more descriptive term) but I've gotten used to it now I suppose. I wonder what a first impression of this name is to people.* There is a lot of stuff on here, and were I to start a new space I suspect I'd probably put a link back on my page, perhaps somewhere a bit obscure as not to overshadow the fledgling new blog, but to maintain the link back to the good ol' days of my youth. I like the continuity, the fact that I can go back with a couple of clicks to the thoughts of a 17 year-old self and remember with nostalgia the way I was then. I'd still like to be able to do that in a few years time, whether through a portal from another blog or directly. I guess the meandering question of this blog is identical to that of Hannah - a vote, if you would, on the opinions of those about changing blog to Somewhere Else Unspecified. Thoughts? *roughly translates as 'tell me what you suspected of this blog from the name, before you read it' =P March 28 Superstition Every. Bloody. Time. I'm not the type for violent or cussive gestures, but if I was I'd be punchin' and swearin' to high hell. As it is, I'm going to take some more pills, and stroke the cat. ARGH! March 27 Job Offer I got a job offer today, for a job at a club night, doing something I really enjoy, through a really obscure route. I'm gutted, because I can't accept - the job involves my unorthodox vocation of fire spinning, and not only am I slightly out of practise since I've been ill (although it's not something you forget), but I can't use my left arm to the degree I need to for poi/staff. Gah. Second Attempt I'm not going to write a positive 'getting better!' blog, because last time I did that it ended badly and I'm feeling superstitious today. And who wants to read/write the same thing twice? Hence, everything is crap, I'm not getting any better and never expect to do so, because the pain is only getting worse and I am unable to leave the house. I can't hold out hope that the latest antibiotics will cure the bronchitus, because I am generalising wildly from the previous example in my distress at my unabating condition, and I am fully confident that I will be in hospital by the end of the week, probably being treated not only for torn intercostals, but for chronic depression brought on by stuck-at-home boredom, hypertension from the salt I had with some chips today, diabetes from the chocolates at Easter, and extremely-early-onset heart disease from the passive smoking I did in Brussels. My life will end in tragedy, and people will remember me as "that sarcastic guy with the worst luck with risk factors the world has ever seen." But then, that could also not happen. =) March 24 Bit of Explaining The last blog entry was a little obscure - I was somewhat frustrated at the
time so I didn't make myself clear. Basically, the pain in the chest
which has been bugging me alongside the cough I've had for a month
returned with a vengeance after the antibiotics finished. I was in A+E
much of sunday getting investigated, with a final decision that I've: - not got pleurisy anymore, nor pneumonia or a tension pneumothorax - not got pericarditus, or anything abnormal to do with my heart (good thing, too) - might have a fractured rib from the coughing, but the x-ray wasn't conclusive either way - have almost definitely torn muscles in my chest wall - have still got bronchitus, but no antibiotics therefor As such, the final conclusion is that I've just got to live with it until it heals up. If the rib is fractured, this will take up to 6 weeks. If not, it will take less time. Bleh. Ibuprofen isn't doing the job it should be doing... March 21 Crucifixion I am shocked. I just can't decide if I'm more surprised that they let them do it, or that they add a health and safety message in the form of 'make sure you get a tetanus jab', whilst skipping the health and safety message of 'don't nail yourself to things.' Yet another piece of evidence separating religion and logic. Suppose it's a good thing they don't let them die. March 20 RecoveryI never realised how much I sang until my voice was removed by my cough/pleurisy/mild pneumonia. I can sing again now, for better or for worse, and at night I could sleep without propping myself up at 45 degrees so life is good! In fact, I reckon there are few better feelings than that of recovering from something which caused you a significant discomfort. Of getting out of bed in the morning without having to roll sideways to get your feet on the floor because it hurts to sit up, or being able to sing, or carry something heavyish with both arms, or whatever little niggles or anything were causing you nuisance. Sure, you still cough/laugh/hiccup/sneeze, and it hurts, but its much less and maybe tonight you'll sleep without painkillers =) It feels terrific! It better not come back, I get the niggling feeling this course of antibiotics wasn't really long enough for what this turned out to be...the doctor when he prescribed it thought I had laryngitus. But we live in hope! |
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