After a difficult period, I seem to be coming out into the sunshine once again. I haven't written very much since getting back from Amsterdam and that wonderful theme song written by Miss Jafer which I can't get out of my head! This is mostly because I'm a lazy slacker, but also has something to do with figuring out some difficult problems and having some free time to use on better things.
There isn't too much to update, in reality: life goes on. I haven't had any luck selling the apartment yet, which is annoying. People keep coming over, looking at it and getting on their snobby bourgeois high horses and so on, but no offers yet. There have been a couple of interested parties and I've dropped the price a little, so I'm hopeful: that's the only thing I need to get done before all my other plans fall into place.
Work is annoying me even more than usual these days: twice already this week (and a couple of times last week) I've been bitten on the arse by being too nice. I'm fed up with going out of my way to help people, then having them come back and whine to my boss (or someone much higher up) when something in what I produced out of the kindness of my heart isn't precisely 100% how they want it to be. I have therefore decided to be an utter bastard and not help anyone any more: if they need something done, they can damned well go through the "proper channels" and have it produced by the new offshore support people in India. Bugger them if it takes three weeks instead of two days: that's their problem and they deserve it for being ungrateful pond scum.
On the gaming front, I have finally stepped away from The Sims 2 a bit. Unfortunately, I stepped into Rome: Total War, which is an absolutely brilliant game. I beat it last night as the Julii - after about ten days of intensive play - and so am now going to try to do well as the Gauls. Apparently, the game is "almost impossible" to win as them (or as Carthage), so I have to give it a go!
Other than this, not much news. One of my aunts died two weeks ago, which was a bummer: more so for my mum since the aunt died of the same thing as my dad. That undoubtedly brought back some nasty memories, as mum was up at the aunt's place (with another aunt) looking after her. Death sucks.
Back to work, I suppose. I'm amusing myself by following the offshore guy's attempts at developing the latest report. He's only called me for help four times... in the last ninety minutes.
Just received this one by email (spelling mistakes left intact):
I never quite figured out why the men & women differ so much, nor the whole Venus and Mars thing. You know: why men think with their head and women with their heart. I do know the sexual desire gene gets thrown into a state of turmoil, when it hears the words "I do."
One evening last week, my wife and I were getting into bed. Well, the passion starts to heat up, and she eventually says "I don't feel like it, I just want you to hold me."
I said "WHAT??!!! What was that?!"
So she says the words that every husband on the planet dreads to hear... "You're just not in touch with my emotional needs as a woman enough for me to satisfy your physical needs as a man."
She responded to my puzzled look by saying, "Can't you just love me for who I am and not what I do for you in the bedroom?"
Realizing that nothing was going to happen that night I went to sleep. The very next day I opted to take the day off of work to spend time with her. We went out to a nice lunch and then went shopping at a big, big unnamed dept Store.
I walked around with her while she tried on several different very expensive outfits. She couldn't decide which one to take so I told her we'll just buy them all. She wanted new shoes to compliment her new clothes, so I said lets get a pair for each outfit. We went on to the jewellery dept. where she picked out a pair of diamond earrings.
Let me tell you...she was so excited. She must have thought I was one wave short of a shipwreck. I started to think she was testing me because she asked for a tennis bracelet when she doesn't even know how to play tennis. I think I threw her for a loop when I said, "That's fine, honey." She was almost nearing sexual satisfaction from all of the excitement. Smiling with excited anticipation she finally said, "I think this is all dear, let's go to the cashier".
I could hardly contain myself when I blurted out, "No honey, I don't feel like it."
Her face just went completely blank as her jaw dropped with a baffled WHAT??!!"
I then said, "Really honey! I just want you to HOLD this stuff for a while. You're just not in touch with my financial needs as a man enough for me to satisfy your shopping needs as a woman."
And just when she had this look like she was going to kill me I added, "Why can’t you just love me for who I am and not for the things I buy you?"
I finally got to see the opening double-episode of season 8 of Stargate SG-1 yesterday. It's my guilty pleasure, that series. I know that it's not very cerebral and that it's not high art or anything, but I just love it. The stories aren't overly contrived, the characters are well-rounded and the humour is excellent. Gotta hand it to those Canadians, eh?
I'm pleased to say that the O'Neill jokes are still around in season 8: I'd been afraid Mr. MacGyver was getting bored with his role and turning into cardboard at the end of the last season, but he's back with a vengeance in the new one. The scene on the Asgard ship Daniel Jackson is a classic.
I'm also pleased to see the Asgard are back: they're my favourite aliens.
Some great news today: apart from the lapsing of work into the more familiar "normal working day" after three weeks which included at least two 12-hour office stints, I received notification that my Freebox had arrived. The postman had tried to deliver it on Friday, when I was out.
The Freebox is a wonderful device: not only is it an ADSL modem that (at least in Paris) achieves speeds of around 3Mbps, but it also does IP telephony and receives a television signal via the same phone line. I went and collected it this morning and finally - finally! - could work from home!
I'd forgotten how wonderful it is to be in the peace and quiet of my own living room, with the cat asleep on my lap while I work. Bliss.
Yesterday was a lovely day, despite growing concerns that Psycho's "stepping up to the plate" to help out with the new flat will probably just cause me to fall into massive debt. I mean, how can I feel relaxed about her promises to bring in money when she can't even manage to pull herself together enough to go for an interview this morning? On the other hand, I am no longer obliged to support her, so if she can't afford to eat, it's her own fault.
There was no particular reason yesterday was so nice: it was just one of those days when life trickles by like a happy little stream, the birds are singing and the internet connection runs at over 2Mbits.
Psycho woke me up on Sunday morning with a whiny phone-call at about 9:30, but that was OK since I was bordering on being awake anyway. I'd gone to bed at 2:00 the previous night, so I was a bit tired, but even so I'd managed to sleep more than usual - most nights, I get between six and seven hours of slumber.
I managed to put off speaking to Psycho for the whole morning, too, although she did phone once for a few minutes. The hours wandered by as I watched a couple of silly TV series, played a game or two and just relaxed in my favourite chair with the cat on my lap.
Around lunchtime, I got my skinny little butt into gear and did my Tae Bo workout: apparently I'm starting to get back into a little better shape after the bout of 'flu at the beginning of the year and that cold recently, since I could still stand up after exercising. I could even use my arms. Impressive. As you can guess, I like to push the limits a bit when I exercise on Sundays - last week's warm-down session stopped about half-way through when I suddenly found myself on my hands and knees. My legs had decided they no longer wanted to bother supporting my weight and collapsed under me. Rather amusing, to say the least! During the week, on the other hand, I prefer to maintain my ability to walk.
Tae Bo time is also playtime for Pie, or La Patate¹ as I also call him since he's such a couch potato. He seems to think that roundhouse kicks, front kicks or any form of movement where a foot leaves the ground is an invitation to leap into the air and claw at the moving limb. At first, this obviously worried me - he has pretty sharp claws - but in the end, it doesn't hurt that much², he gets a huge amount of amusement and exercise out of it and it helps me to concentrate on the movements. I have to be aware not only of where I am and how my limbs are shaping the necessary forms, but of where he is and if he is about to attack. It definitely adds an extra something to the exercises when there's a flying furball trying to nab my foot in mid-air!
After the Tae Bo comes the nice, relaxing, hot bath... complete with gasps of pain as I lower my feet into the water and all those fresh new cat-cuts squeal out at me. Then it's lunch time and an afternoon of relaxation, usually interrupted hourly by whiny-ass phone calls from Psycho. Yesterday, however, she had woken up early, so she went off for a snooze in the afternoon, freeing me from all her complaints about life.
So the hours trickled by with the first two parts of the BBC adaptation of The Day Of The Triffids and some PC games. Very relaxing.
Come evening-time, it's off to Psycho's, to play punch-bag to her attitude. Once again, life decided to be unexpectedly kind to me: she was tired and fed up. She didn't feel well. Normally, we'd wander out to one of the local cafés for a few hours to talk (or whine), but she didn't feel like doing that, so we sat and watched some TV (cartoons!) instead. She went to bed really early, too, so I waited for my washing to finish - she has a machine and I don't, and is kind enough to let me use it, which saves me several hours in a launderette - and shuffled off home.
On Saturday, I had promised to phone Amel. Cashier Girlie is causing me a great number of pauses for thought. To explain: I find all women attractive. Every one of them has something special. Whether it is lovely eyes, an astounding intellect, a great laugh, firm buttocks or whatever, every human has something attractive and interesting. Some just have more than others, which is what causes me to stop and gawp.
After a short time, however, as familiarity with the person begins to set in and I begin to notice the details a bit more, I generally find them less attractive physically. This is, I should be careful to point out, not necessarily normal for men, although I obviously can't speak for everyone. It's a personal defense thing for me: because I'm scared to death by relationships and women in general, my subconscious tells me to find them less attractive so I can avoid that whole deal. To balance this, the attraction can deepen on the intellectual and emotional side, maintaining my interest until I can get past the stupid fear.
The thing with Amel, though, is that each time I see her at the checkout, there's something else attractive. Take Saturday, for example: she'd left her hair down (long and black... yum!) and that smile! Pause for thought, most definitely. In some ways, this is a good thing - it hopefully shows I'm finally coming out of a period of being so afraid of relationships that I can finally find someone attractive. In another way, given my past choices of women, it could easily mean that she's a total fruitcake³.
Since I'd promised to phone her, I did so last night, but she wasn't there. She did ask for my email address when I saw her at the weekend, so I left her a card from work. That's something I don't really like doing, not because I don't want people to have all my details but because I feel it comes across as trying to impress them. Still, she asked and it was the easiest way to give her all the info without having to faff around. Again, this could be a good thing. It could mean she's a little like me and has less trouble chatting via the written word than on a phone (I really don't like phones). At the very least, it'll be another form of contact that could lead to a great friendship or more.
I guess we'll have to see.
¹ A patate is a 'spud', whereas a pomme de terre is a 'potato' (literally a 'ground apple').
² I grew up with cats. Not only did my family own the toughest ginger tom in the area (who was cuddly as heck with me), but there were at least a half dozen others around. Consequently, I am virtually immune to any diseases carried by them from the hundreds of scratches received in my youth and hardly notice the pain of said attacks because they're so familiar.
³ Loony, mad person, deranged individual.
I think I've found my new home. Yesterday afternoon, Psycho and I went to look at a couple of apartments in the area, with the director of an agency I visited at the end of last week.
The two places were the same size (27m² living space) and in the same price range. The first was a deux pièces (two rooms, plus bathroom and kitchen) while the second was a studio (one room, plus bathroom and kitchen). Both are in the right area, so I wouldn't be leaving this lovely little community.
I'll start with the second one, which I totally forgot to photograph (slapped wrists for that!). First impressions of the building were that it's a bit flaky: occasional crumbly bits on walls, but nothing drastic. The entry and staircase were really cool, as it had those 'overview' spots where you can stand leaning on a little wall and look down the stairs. Pointless, yes, but pretty. Walking up to the second floor, I was amused to see the 'studenty' nature of the place: one door with a Tiananmen Square poster stuck on it, another with surf bum stickers and so on.
The apartment itself had a really crappy door that would need replacing. The entry was neat and the kitchen gorgeous, complete with fitted cupboards, worktop and everything. Nicely lit through a big window, too. Unfortunately, both the loo and the shower were extremely small: the shower was literally cupboard-sized. This place cost more than the first, because the French consider a kitchen more important than a bathroom. Not I.
The main room was lovely, it has to be said, if a little dark. The small window looked out onto greenery and it was quiet enough. Plenty of shelf-space built in and, of course, a nice big area to put a sofa-bed in and use as a living room.
On the downside, I'd want to rip out the kitchen - which would be a shame since it was so nice - and put that into the corner of the kitchen/bathroom area (or even in the main room). I'd knock down the little wall dividing that area from the bathroom and expand that to hold a bath and so on. That's a lot of work and could be quite expensive, in addition to the already-more-expensive flat.
The first, the deux pièces, on the other hand was beautiful. It's on a fairly quiet road next to the same main road as where I am now. It's nicely arranged, too, so there's no space wasted. Looking at the numbered plan that I threw together this morning, the main living room (photo from point 1) has two windows (plenty of light) that face the street, is spacious and even has a fireplace!
The kitchen (photo taken from point 2) is presumably what drops the price for this place: it's pretty small and useless for most people, but fine for me. It looks very much like a converted entryway, to be honest. The bedroom is also pretty large and has a single window facing nosy neighbours. Curtains are in order, I think.
For this one, I'd want to make the bathroom larger by knocking down part of the wall between there and the bedroom, expanding the shower area to make it big enough to put a bath in. That's about all that would need changing, apart from potential kitchen upgrades. Easy peasy!
Consequently, last night, I contacted the agency and put in an offer on the place. The guy had suggested that the owners might take a slightly lower price than advertised, so I made an appropriate cut and sent in my official bid.
This morning I have nearly drowned in a flood of good news: the 1% loan I was hoping would pay a part of the legal fees turned out to be more than twice as big as I expected, my offer on the apartment was accepted and it turns out the agency fees are already included in that price! Amazing!
I sign the papers to set everything in motion tomorrow... wooooo!
Well, this week is going nicely, isn't it? Psycho gets a job - or rather, goes for a free 3-month training course which involves a job at the end - and a boyfriend, I get lots of free time and my PC is fixed (seemingly)! Bliss.
It's Thursday morning, just after 8 a.m. I've been awake thirty minutes or so and, since I am working from home today (as almost always on Thursdays), I am sitting here with a cup of bad coffee and a sleeping couch-potato that looks suspiciously like a cat. Why bad coffee? I dislike 'real' coffee. Actually, that's not entirely true: I like anything with a decent concentration of caffeine in it, as long as it doesn't taste of old socks. To be more precise, I prefer instant coffee, which most people consider 'bad'.
So what's this about my feet? Do you really need to know? Probably not, but hey... I never asked you to come here anyway. And now it's too late to leave! Mwuhahahaha!
Yesterday, at around 4:30 p.m., I picked up my new car. Part of the deal when I switched from being a consultant on repeating six-month contracts to a permanent employee who pays 60% taxes was that I get a car for work. In some (in fact, in many) ways, this is ludicrous: I live about ten kilometres (five miles or so) from my workplace, never travel far for work and never see clients. Quite why I could possibly need a car is beyond me, but that's not really what this is about.
When I switched from being a contractor, I basically lost 60% of my income. Of course, that's the 'raw cash' part I'm talking about: since changing, I now pay taxes here in France (instead of elsewhere), but I get things like medical cover, paid holidays, a 35-hour working week, social security and all those wonderful things that a socialist government has put in place. My employer is also quite astoundingly generous with such things as RTT and medical. RTT is complex: although officially I work a 35-hour week, I actually work a 40-hour week (officially... in real terms I probably work a 50-hour week, just because it's fun). The other five hours, I get back in training and 'personal development' days - that is, the company pays for courses and stuff. Good deal. As for medical, they cover virtually everything at virtually 100%, which is absolutely incredible. Gotta love 'em.
The thing I like the best, though, is the paid holidays: talk about a wonder of modern society! Sitting at home and being paid to do nothing? Yes, please.
Anyway, I went to pick up the car last night. I've been waiting nine months for it to arrive, which is rather a long time. Normally, it takes three months, but I'd had problems. My first choice of car, a Jaguar XJ Series was within budget and irresistable for an Englishman. Unfortunately, it was within budget as long as I didn't have anything like a CD player or sun roof. Bah, humbug. My second choice, the Audi A3 was being remodelled (and apparently the new one is crap). The five-door version, which we are forced to have, wouldn't be available for ten months. Ho hum. So I went for the Alfa Romeo 147, in black of course.
Car choices are annoying, especially if you're not a car person. I was given no budget limit, just a list of examples and a list of nine manufacturers I was allowed to choose from. It had to be five-doored, non-cabriolet and non-coupé. That ruled out everything I wanted. No Peugeot 206CC, no New Beetle and, worst of all, no Lotus Elise! I despise BMW and Mercedes - two manufacturers gone. I refuse to drive a Golf (all the little shitheads where I come from drive them). I didn't want a huge great big stonky car, so no 4x4 or saloon things. Basically, the Alfa was the last choice.
Driving home last night was a nightmare. I haven't driven in a month and the last car I drove was my old MX-5 (Miata). It was lower, shorter, faster, nippier and had the steering wheel (and everything else) on the other side! Still, the new one is nice: GPS, 10-CD changer, integrated hands-free phone, sun roof, air conditioning and all the funky doodahs. It'd be nice if the manufacturer hadn't screwed up and included a GPS CD for Germany instead of France, and if they had included the mobile phone card rather than forgetting it, but all in all it's a nice vehicle. When I got home, my feet didn't hurt: after a month of walking for 90 minutes a day, this was nice.
And best of all, the company pays for petrol. This is one gift horse I intend not to complain about, let alone look in the mouth.
Which Dysfunctional Care Bear Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
OK, so originally I was Gay Bear, but then I realised I'm more likely to be reading Nietzsche than to be dancing. Can I mix both and be Gay Nihilist Bear, please? Oh, and I do care about fluffy kitties. Honest.
Every cloud has a silver lining, they say, and I try to think like that as much as possible. Even in the worst moments of darkness, there's generally something positive to be found. Yes, I'm an optimist. I don't care if my glass is half-empty or half-full: hey, I've got a glass! At the same time, I'm somewhat of a stoic: whatever life deals me, I try to accept with a resigned calm. My philosophy on life?
"Life sucks, but that's just life."
So what brings on this philosophical mood? Well, last night was an exercise in stoical calm, life sucking and a silver lining that was quite unexpected. Sounds dramatic, but it isn't really. The collection of events that coincided on one evening of one day was, however, quite intriguing when viewed from the inside.
It all started in a very normal way: Psycho phoned me at work, for the fourth or fifth time that day. She phones at least five or six times every day, just to say hello or for a little emotional support. This time it was to tell me she had an opthalmic migraine. These things are horrible. I've had one myself. Everything goes black and white (or in my case, black and red) and it hurts: the pain in the head is constant, unyielding, and every little noise or flash of light hurts like crazy. The only thing to do is to go to bed, hide under the covers where it's dark and quiet and wait for the blessed calm of sleep, if it will come.
Unfortunately, yesterday was the day that Psycho needed to go to see a doctor to pick up a prescription. As it happens, I live right above a pharmacy, so the lady there knows both of us really well and is wonderfully helpful. I always pick up any meds Psycho needs, on her behalf, and the pharmacist never questions anything or asks for ID or whatever. She'll even advance stuff if we run out, and will wait for the appropriate prescription to arrive to fulfill the backlog, as it were. She's great. Psycho arranged, therefore, for me to visit her doctor (who also knows me and is willing to give me the documents needed) at 7:30 that evening and get everything sorted out.
This, in itself, was not a big deal. However, I knew she had a lack of one particular medicine that she'd need that night, so I'd need to visit the pharmacy before having the prescription. I also had to do some shopping, as I had nothing to eat for the evening and Psycho needed some Coke and some yoghurts. Fitting all this into the time between arriving at home, around 6:30, and the shops' relative closing times would be a bit of a challenge! Ah, well, such is life.
So I drove home. Unfortunately, again, it was raining: this in itself does not bother me, even when I have no coat or umbrella (as yesterday). I love the rain. I never carry an umbrella, in fact. On the other hand, some Parisian drivers seem to have no understanding of the dangers of rain on the roads and drive stupidly. After all, it's vitally important that they get home those 30 seconds earlier, that they advance those final two metres towards the car in front... they're really, really dumb. Thankfully, I'm a pretty calm driver, so I let them push and shove, get annoyed and overtake (while making signs and hooting madly). It simply doesn't bother me. If they want to have an accident, they can do so in front of me where I can see and have time to stop, rather than behind me and involving me!
Anyway, I went and did the shopping immediately: I'd have much preferred to do it on the way to Psycho's, but there was a chance it would be too late after the doctor. If not, I could always stock the stuff in my apartment until needed. I hate shopping, particularly in the evening when there's tons of people and I always end up in the queue for the checkout, sandwiched between someone who smells of alcohol and someone who sighs and puffs every ten seconds because they're not the only human being in existence and waiting in line for three minutes is such a chore. Lugging the stuff home, I stopped at the pharmacy and picked up the medicine Psycho would need for that evening: the pharmacist, as usual, was great.
Arriving back in the flat, I had about 20 minutes to myself before having to head out again. Time enough to sit down, cuddle the cat for a few minutes, close my eyes and relax, then get up and get ready to head off. No rest for the wicked, as they say. The doc was cool, thankfully, and happily filled out everything she needs. On the other hand, he miscalculated covering for the shortages of the last couple of weeks, which is really annoying. After the meeting with the doctor, it was almost 8:00... precisely the time the food shops close. Phew. I'd already bought the essentials! So, back to my apartment, under the rain, pack the stuff up and off I went again.
Having now been soaked three or four times by the rain, rushed from place to place and feeling generally crappy and tired, I didn't expect the evening to be very wonderful. However, this is where that silver lining came in... firstly, Psycho decided she wasn't that hungry (for once... I've never seen anyone eat as much as she does and stay slim!) and would just have a couple of big bowls of soup and some yoghurts. This saved me standing and cooking: not that I particularly mind, but I only ever cook for her, surviving as I do on microwave meals and lunches in the cafeteria at work. One less chore. She'd also very kindly done the washing up, which absolutely kills her because of a back anomaly she has that makes it difficult and painful for her to stand, leaning over the sink. Two less chores.
The final, wonderful part to the silver lining was neither of these, though. It was something that only those of you who love pets will understand. We were sitting watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, which was on TV and she's never seen, when Biscotte ('our' cat) wandered out from behind the futon. She loves hiding behind there. Now, Biscotte is a cuddly cat, but not one to sit on laps or stay for extended cuddles, particularly with me. Yesterday, she did something she'd never done before, to me or to Psycho. She climbed up on my lap, lay down... and went to sleep there. If you're not a cat lover, you won't understand why this was so nice, but believe me... it made the rest of the evening's difficulties seem worthwhile. Bliss.
A just-before-zonking-out-for-the-night blog, in order to point all my faithful reader (for there is probably only one, hehe!) to Ruthie's blog. A visitor who I didn't even know I had, due to the anonymity of the Internet, and who made her presence felt by giving me lurv, baby! Well, OK, so it was actually just a comment, but hey, that's lurv for a nerd like me, right? :)
You'll also find the original link on her site to this Name Meaning finder thingummy that I thought I would also try... so what's the result (with my real name, not my Internet pseudo-personality!)?
Meaning: Crown - this I already knew, since my father was a preacher and named us all with Bible names (thankfully no Ezekiel or Methusela...). My name comes from Greek, though, which is odd since the Bible's Hebrew!
Motivation: Has a sense of adventure - ha! That's about as true for me as if they wrote "Has twenty-seven legs"...
Character: Respectful of others - oh, alright then...
Feelings: Warm towards others - despite my feeble attempts to hide behind a callous, stone-hearted, cynical exterior, I am indeed warm towards other people. I make friends very easily (although rarely true friends) and get along with almost everyone I've ever met.
Intelligence: Is a quick witted and bright person - uh, wha? Who said dat? I can't really judge my own intelligence, but would like to think I'm above average, at least. Quick-witted is reasonably accurate, except when it comes to talking to charming women, when my vocabulary is reduced to "thbbbpttttpp, uh, inglegarblegooplydoo".
Spiritual: Believes in harmony - absolutely. I'm a Wiccan, after all. :)
Nature: A high spirited person - what's that supposed to mean? I act as if I'm on cocaine all the time? I screech hysterically at the slightest provocation? I'm fun? What? I don't get it...
Inherent: Shows qualities of a nimble mind - without having one, presumably? Heh... OK, so I learn fast and have never specialised, preferring to learn a little bit about everything than a lot about one thing. I would class that as nimble, purely for jumping between subjects, not for any speed of thought.
I just remembered something that happened to me a while back that made me chuckle. What prompted the memory was seeing that the 20th episode of season 9 of Friends was aired this week - news that is fairly inconsequential, but reminds me I need to buy the VHS release as soon as it arrives in France. That'll probably be November, if they stick to the normal schedule.
So this memory, yes. It was quite a while ago when I was discussing the series with a colleague. She's a charming, beautiful young lady who also enjoys the show and I had simply remarked something along the lines of:
"You know you're addicted to the show when you identify yourself with one of the characters, no matter how unrealistic it all is."
Her reply?
"Oh, but Chandler's a nice guy!"
It took a moment for her to realise that I hadn't actually said who I identified with, and that this might not be seen as a compliment.
Thanks, Tania. And incidentally, you were right, and it was a compliment.
I know, I know, I just posted. But I found this at Gamer's Nook and couldn't resist the posting. Top job. Ha!
It's back! Oh boy, what a long, long rebuild this was. I worked on the site for about six hours yesterday (the whole evening, no less) to get the main page back to normal and add a couple of extra things while I was there.
Firstly, you'll notice a 'Profiles' link under the calendar, where I will (soon) add a page with information about who I am. I'll also include some of the other folks who I talk about (fear not, I won't put anything personal in for them... just some background blah-blah).
Secondly, I left the 'Search' box in from the basic Movabletype template: I have no idea if or how it works, but it was there and cost me zero effort to leave it. What the hell, right?
Thirdly, there will soon be another box with a pic from my webcam down on the left. It won't be anything very interesting, I can assure you - probably just the view out of the window, or looking into the dump I live in. I just thought I'd add it... because I can.
I've also rebuilt all the templates for the site, with the exception of the monthly archive (which will be next) and a by-category archive (which doesn't yet exist). The individual entry archives (recent posts) and all the comment stuff is now prettier and works properly.
In the process of doing this, I've learnt a huge amount about style sheets and the Movabletype templates. It's been very interesting and very enjoyable, despite the fatigue issues. If ever you have a website that falls over and dies in a gurgling mess of HTML, may I recommend a total rebuild? It's terribly gratifying.
So, what's next? Well, I will rebuild the monthly archive template, add the cam image, then either look at the by-category archive or pings and trackbacks. Then I'll need to do the cleaning in the flat, because my head will have exploded and made a horrible mess! To work!
P.S. I just discovered Flowerhead's Blog: anyone with that name and such a healthy love of cows must be wonderful. A cheery, amusing blog for those bad, bad days... drop in and see her.
Chasing the, clouuuudds away,
Cooooooome and play, where the air is sweeeeeet...
Ah, what a gorgeous day it is today. Absolutely toe-curlingly cold this morning, with an evil wind blowing as I staggered half-awake to the car park, but now the sun's out and it's lovely. That wind's still blowing, but I'm in the office so don't really notice. It's so nice here when it's sunny: I'm fortunate enough to sit by a huge window (presumably this is part of the company's security policy: put the freak in the window and scare off potential burglars!) and have a large plant just behind me. With the sun shining through the glass and a bit of greenery around, it's great. I slept really well last night, too, which is good news. The last few days, I'd been tossing and turning all night, getting about 5 hours' sleep maximum and it was starting to tell.
Psycho has an interview this afternoon, which she's been whining and moaning about all morning. Ah, the joys of interviews and finding that first job after University. Call me jaded, call me a cynical old bugger, but it amuses me to see her stress. Not in a nasty way, just in a sort of "been there, done that, and there's a lot worse, I can assure you" kind of way. She really wants to find a job, but they're somewhat rare these days - especially in the psychology business, where there's way too many qualified people and not enough work. So I've been supporting her for a while, with the intent that she doesn't have to take a crappy job at McDonalds or something just to have food in the fridge. For her part, she keeps looking, keeps reading and learning new things and goes to interviews, about which she always complains.
Today's interview is a whole 90 minutes. Wooo, scary. Actually, that's a reasonably long interview, but I'm a jaded old git and I remember my interview for my current job - five hours long, from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., with about six different people!
Good luck, Psycho! Hope you land this one, 'cos it sounds like something you'd enjoy!
Ah, what a day today. It's sunny and lovely, if a little chilly when the wind whizzes by, and there's hardly anyone at work. There's a major strike on today here in Paris, of all the public services, to try to hold on to their pensions and retirement benefits. The government wants to align their employees with the private sector, which means that they'll have to work longer (probably) and get less money (from what I understand) when they retire. In a way, it seems reasonable, since we all work in similar jobs, but in another way I can see how they'd not want to lose their additional benefits. So anyway, there's fewer trains, metros and buses, the airports are running at about 20%, the Post Office is running at a reduced rate and so on.
Understandably, the roads were a nightmare this morning - took me about twice as long as usual to get to work today. On the other hand, since I work in high-tech, a huge number of folks are working from home today, thus making the office a nice, quiet place, with few queues for lunch and so on. Add the sunshine to this, and it's great! Now, add an all-day course on the internationalisation of applications by an amusing Australian chap, and the day's work is a lot nicer. Add the fact that I have to leave at 4pm to go to an appointment, and it's even better..!!
Nice to have a good day in the week, I must say. Life ain't so bad after all...