Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Friday, January 22, 2010
Friday Ten - Ten Songs or Albums That Remind Me Of Different Places and Times
Whenever I hear one of these records, I am automatically transported back in time.
1) Nessun Dorma - Luciano Pavarotti: Any time I hear the last minute or so of Nessum Dorma, I'm 10 years old and spending the summer holidays with my Granny and Grampa in Brechin. The World Cup is on the BBC every day, and the green pitches seem especially bright under the Italian floodlights. Every match is preceded and followed by the tournament's adopted theme tune, bellowed by Pavarotti. This piece of music is a whole mish-mash of different memories - watching the matches in my Granny and Grampa's house, recreating Salvatori Schillachi's bug-eyed goal celebrations and Packie Bonner's penalty saves in Brechin Public Park, and generally playing more football in a day than my legs could now manage in a month.
2) This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours - Manic Street Preachers: This was the last album I bought before moving to Edinburgh for university at 18. In the flurry of leaving drinks, packing, work and general excitement in the week leading up to the move, I barely listened to the album. But once I'd unpacked in my new home in Craiglockhart Halls of Residence and set my stereo up, this album remained in the CD player for a while afterwards. All of the tracks are now forever associated with that first week away from home and the exciting new world it presented.
3) Who Killed The Zutons? - The Zutons: One of the first albums I bought after returning from a year traveling around the world, this coincided with me buying a car and an in-car CD player and getting a job with the Oban Times. As I scooted around the town from Mrs Wife's folks' house to the office, the Liverpudlians' first album became the soundtrack to that first week as a full-time journalist.
4) A Grand Don't Come For Free - The Streets: A few months into our round the world jaunt in 2003-2004, Mrs Wife and I were skint and living hand-to-mouth in Perth, Western Australia. One of my friends took pity and sent across a pile of albums to help pass the time. Later, when we were based in Melbourne, he did the same again, just before we started traveling down Australia's east coast by bus. One of the CDs was The Streets' second album, and I would often listen to it on overnight bus journies, this curious English concept album soundtracking sleepless nights staring out into the pitch-black bush.
5) Love Is Noise - The Verve: The Verve's fourth album was released the day I set off for Norway for the first time with work. I'd decided before leaving that Love Is Noise would be my anthem for the three-day jaunt, and I listened to the track any time I had a spare five minutes. I also drove my colleagues to distraction by singing it at all other times, including making an odd hooting noise to recreate the instruments. Any time I hear it now, I'm back in Stavanger in the summer sunshine.
6) Be Here Now - Oasis: Oasis opened the concerts on their Be Here Now tour of 1997 with the song of the same name, and any time I hear it I can remember the excitement of being in the front row, my arms squeezed against the barrier to stop my ribs snapping, as the band burst out of a red phonebox and straight into this song.
7) Did You Miss Me? - The Cooper Temple Clause: When working in a canteen while at university in 2001, I would arrive at 8am on Saturday morning (not a student-friendly time of the weekend), hook up my CD player and stick on my favourite album of the time, The Cooper Temple Clause's majestic debut See This Through and Leave. The opening keyboard refrain still helps perk me up on occasion, although I don't have an endless supply of bacon rolls and Coke on hand any more.
8) Death Trip 21 - Ash: In 1999, five of us from university went to Ireland for 10 days. These were the days of portable tape players, and my friends and I swapped compilation tapes. Strangely, the only track I can remember putting on mine is Death Trip 21 by Ash, from their Nu-Clear Sounds album. Hearing it now reminds me of the train ride from Belfast to Dublin.
9) In The Meantime - Spacehog: This song reminds me of the same holiday, as it was on the jukebox in the hostel we stayed in in Dublin. We were in the Irish capital in mid-April, but it was hammering down with snow for most of our time there. So we spent a lot of time in the hostel bar, and this song got a few airings during our stay.
10) Here, There and Everywhere - The Beatles: The first dance at our wedding. Mrs Wife had this on her list of potential first dances from her teenage years, and it was an easy choice to make. It also features in the episode of Friends where Phoebe gets married, played on a steel drum, but ours was the Fabs' version.
1) Nessun Dorma - Luciano Pavarotti: Any time I hear the last minute or so of Nessum Dorma, I'm 10 years old and spending the summer holidays with my Granny and Grampa in Brechin. The World Cup is on the BBC every day, and the green pitches seem especially bright under the Italian floodlights. Every match is preceded and followed by the tournament's adopted theme tune, bellowed by Pavarotti. This piece of music is a whole mish-mash of different memories - watching the matches in my Granny and Grampa's house, recreating Salvatori Schillachi's bug-eyed goal celebrations and Packie Bonner's penalty saves in Brechin Public Park, and generally playing more football in a day than my legs could now manage in a month.
2) This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours - Manic Street Preachers: This was the last album I bought before moving to Edinburgh for university at 18. In the flurry of leaving drinks, packing, work and general excitement in the week leading up to the move, I barely listened to the album. But once I'd unpacked in my new home in Craiglockhart Halls of Residence and set my stereo up, this album remained in the CD player for a while afterwards. All of the tracks are now forever associated with that first week away from home and the exciting new world it presented.
3) Who Killed The Zutons? - The Zutons: One of the first albums I bought after returning from a year traveling around the world, this coincided with me buying a car and an in-car CD player and getting a job with the Oban Times. As I scooted around the town from Mrs Wife's folks' house to the office, the Liverpudlians' first album became the soundtrack to that first week as a full-time journalist.
4) A Grand Don't Come For Free - The Streets: A few months into our round the world jaunt in 2003-2004, Mrs Wife and I were skint and living hand-to-mouth in Perth, Western Australia. One of my friends took pity and sent across a pile of albums to help pass the time. Later, when we were based in Melbourne, he did the same again, just before we started traveling down Australia's east coast by bus. One of the CDs was The Streets' second album, and I would often listen to it on overnight bus journies, this curious English concept album soundtracking sleepless nights staring out into the pitch-black bush.
5) Love Is Noise - The Verve: The Verve's fourth album was released the day I set off for Norway for the first time with work. I'd decided before leaving that Love Is Noise would be my anthem for the three-day jaunt, and I listened to the track any time I had a spare five minutes. I also drove my colleagues to distraction by singing it at all other times, including making an odd hooting noise to recreate the instruments. Any time I hear it now, I'm back in Stavanger in the summer sunshine.
6) Be Here Now - Oasis: Oasis opened the concerts on their Be Here Now tour of 1997 with the song of the same name, and any time I hear it I can remember the excitement of being in the front row, my arms squeezed against the barrier to stop my ribs snapping, as the band burst out of a red phonebox and straight into this song.
7) Did You Miss Me? - The Cooper Temple Clause: When working in a canteen while at university in 2001, I would arrive at 8am on Saturday morning (not a student-friendly time of the weekend), hook up my CD player and stick on my favourite album of the time, The Cooper Temple Clause's majestic debut See This Through and Leave. The opening keyboard refrain still helps perk me up on occasion, although I don't have an endless supply of bacon rolls and Coke on hand any more.
8) Death Trip 21 - Ash: In 1999, five of us from university went to Ireland for 10 days. These were the days of portable tape players, and my friends and I swapped compilation tapes. Strangely, the only track I can remember putting on mine is Death Trip 21 by Ash, from their Nu-Clear Sounds album. Hearing it now reminds me of the train ride from Belfast to Dublin.
9) In The Meantime - Spacehog: This song reminds me of the same holiday, as it was on the jukebox in the hostel we stayed in in Dublin. We were in the Irish capital in mid-April, but it was hammering down with snow for most of our time there. So we spent a lot of time in the hostel bar, and this song got a few airings during our stay.
10) Here, There and Everywhere - The Beatles: The first dance at our wedding. Mrs Wife had this on her list of potential first dances from her teenage years, and it was an easy choice to make. It also features in the episode of Friends where Phoebe gets married, played on a steel drum, but ours was the Fabs' version.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
To The Faraway Towns
I spent two days this week in London.
In my late teens, when it became apparent that I was going to be studying journalism at university, I always assumed that I'd end up working in London.
Life didn't play out that way, and I've been to London less than a dozen times since my first visit in 1999.
I always look forward to heading down to the big smoke - especially when my employer is paying, as was the case this week.
But it's a place that delights and infuriates in equal measure.
The sheer size of the city is something that a life spent mostly in Scotland can't prepare you for. London isn't a single entity, it's a whole series of towns linked by what, in my experience, is the world's greatest underground network.
But the tube, while generally working like clockwork, can be a source of great frustration. It seems that Londoners are adept at avoiding eye contact, instead stampeding impatiently from platform to platform, barrier to exit. One second's hesitance and you're immediately in someone's way, and they're not slow in telling you.
The sheer volume of people takes some getting used to as well, especially for those of us who split their time between Montrose and Aberdeen. But London seems overcrowded even when compared to New York and Shanghai, although perhaps memory serves me incorrectly.
Even with the overcrowding and the sullen faces surrounding me on every side, London is incredible. There are amazing buildings on almost every street. Huge ornate buildings that would be royal residences in any other country are train stations or offices in London.
But it's a tiring place, especially when you're at a conference for the entire time you're there, and even more so when your flight is delayed. I did at least get a meal at Gordon Ramsay's Plane Food restaurant, and it was one of the best meals I've ever had.
In my late teens, when it became apparent that I was going to be studying journalism at university, I always assumed that I'd end up working in London.
Life didn't play out that way, and I've been to London less than a dozen times since my first visit in 1999.
I always look forward to heading down to the big smoke - especially when my employer is paying, as was the case this week.
But it's a place that delights and infuriates in equal measure.
The sheer size of the city is something that a life spent mostly in Scotland can't prepare you for. London isn't a single entity, it's a whole series of towns linked by what, in my experience, is the world's greatest underground network.
But the tube, while generally working like clockwork, can be a source of great frustration. It seems that Londoners are adept at avoiding eye contact, instead stampeding impatiently from platform to platform, barrier to exit. One second's hesitance and you're immediately in someone's way, and they're not slow in telling you.
The sheer volume of people takes some getting used to as well, especially for those of us who split their time between Montrose and Aberdeen. But London seems overcrowded even when compared to New York and Shanghai, although perhaps memory serves me incorrectly.
Even with the overcrowding and the sullen faces surrounding me on every side, London is incredible. There are amazing buildings on almost every street. Huge ornate buildings that would be royal residences in any other country are train stations or offices in London.
But it's a tiring place, especially when you're at a conference for the entire time you're there, and even more so when your flight is delayed. I did at least get a meal at Gordon Ramsay's Plane Food restaurant, and it was one of the best meals I've ever had.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Flashback
A while ago (well, two years ago if we're being accurate) I posted an old account of the time Mrs Wife and I were travelling around Vietnam.
Because I'm lazy and I was a better writer when I was a 23-year-old layabout than I am now that I'm a 29-year-old layabout, here's an account of when Mrs Wife and I first arrived in Australia in late 2003.
Happy New Year from Perth! Hope everybody had a good Hogmanay despite what I hear were hurricane-like weather conditions on the East of Scotland.
For the record, both New Year's Eve and New Year's Day were scorching here. As this is the start of the Ozzie summer, temperature is steadily rising, so although Xmas Day's 32 degrees seemed pretty darn hot, the temperature is now nudging 40 degrees almost every day, so it can almost seem unbearable - at least until I remember that the alternative is driving home from Aberdeen in the dark during a blizzard - then the ice lollies and sunbathing don't seem as bad....
Anyway, life in Perth is good. It's a lot smaller than I expected, especially after arriving from Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur and Singapore, but it's a lot more manageable than those three cities, and a lot more chilled out. We've been here since the 20th of December, and in that short space of time I have already had three different employers.
Finding work hasn't been that easy, our visas restrict us to three months in a single job, so employers tend to shy away from travellers. My first crack at employment was in a small cafe in the middle of Perth run by a psychotic Chinese woman called Nancy (that was what first set the alarm bells ringing, Chinese people aren't called Nancy, they're called Ng and Chan and things). The place was staffed almost exclusively by illegal immigrants, from places as diverse as Yugoslavia (the mysterious and suspicious Dragan - potentially evading war crimes charges I think), Ben from Taiwan (has now overstayed his visa by three years) and assorted other Orientals with all the warmth and endearing qualities of frozen vomit.
After a four-hour trial spent avoiding Nancy's death stare as much as possible, I was offered the job for $12 an hour, which Nancy assured me was a great wage. Which it is in British terms (almost five GBP an hour) but the minimum wage for waiters in Oz is $15ph. I also knew that if I had to work there for two months, there would either be a raid by the Department of Immigration, or I would end up knocking Nancy's head in with a coffee pot, so I politely declined her offer.
My second stab at earning some cash was scrubbing campervans near the airport. Although it sounds like a pretty crappy job, it paid $14ph (about six pounds), was outdoors in the sun, and the people were pretty sound. But there wasn't enough work to last all the employees, so it was a case of last in, first out, but I at least got three days out of this one.
And now we're both working for a telemarketing company, trying to sell mobile phones. There's a base rate to ensure we don't starve, but most of the money is made through commission, so we'll see how it goes. We're both looking for better jobs though. Personally, I'm just waiting for the job advert seeking an immediate vacancy for a roving music journalist on $100,000 a year....
Aside from the jobhunting, we haven't really done very much since we arrived, partly due to having nae cash, and partly because our time here has been interrupted by Xmas and New Year. We spent Xmas in the hostel, with a champagne brekky by the pool and then a full Xmas dinner and Xmas supper.
It was good to spend the day lazing round in the sun, and generally mucking round in the pool. We were out in Perth on Hogmanay, our hostel is in the 'trendy' area of Northbridge (imagine Camden in London or The Grassmarket in Edinburgh, but with more pissed British people and no rain and you're getting close), so we spent the night at the street party there, walking between the stages and through the huge crowds until the fireworks.
So now we've moved into a flat with a couple of Ozzies, business student Tim and Journalism graduate Leah, and we're trying to save a bit of cash to buy a car and keep on moving. Hope everybody is fully recovered from the festivities and glad to be back at work.
Because I'm lazy and I was a better writer when I was a 23-year-old layabout than I am now that I'm a 29-year-old layabout, here's an account of when Mrs Wife and I first arrived in Australia in late 2003.
Happy New Year from Perth! Hope everybody had a good Hogmanay despite what I hear were hurricane-like weather conditions on the East of Scotland.
For the record, both New Year's Eve and New Year's Day were scorching here. As this is the start of the Ozzie summer, temperature is steadily rising, so although Xmas Day's 32 degrees seemed pretty darn hot, the temperature is now nudging 40 degrees almost every day, so it can almost seem unbearable - at least until I remember that the alternative is driving home from Aberdeen in the dark during a blizzard - then the ice lollies and sunbathing don't seem as bad....
Anyway, life in Perth is good. It's a lot smaller than I expected, especially after arriving from Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur and Singapore, but it's a lot more manageable than those three cities, and a lot more chilled out. We've been here since the 20th of December, and in that short space of time I have already had three different employers.
Finding work hasn't been that easy, our visas restrict us to three months in a single job, so employers tend to shy away from travellers. My first crack at employment was in a small cafe in the middle of Perth run by a psychotic Chinese woman called Nancy (that was what first set the alarm bells ringing, Chinese people aren't called Nancy, they're called Ng and Chan and things). The place was staffed almost exclusively by illegal immigrants, from places as diverse as Yugoslavia (the mysterious and suspicious Dragan - potentially evading war crimes charges I think), Ben from Taiwan (has now overstayed his visa by three years) and assorted other Orientals with all the warmth and endearing qualities of frozen vomit.
After a four-hour trial spent avoiding Nancy's death stare as much as possible, I was offered the job for $12 an hour, which Nancy assured me was a great wage. Which it is in British terms (almost five GBP an hour) but the minimum wage for waiters in Oz is $15ph. I also knew that if I had to work there for two months, there would either be a raid by the Department of Immigration, or I would end up knocking Nancy's head in with a coffee pot, so I politely declined her offer.
My second stab at earning some cash was scrubbing campervans near the airport. Although it sounds like a pretty crappy job, it paid $14ph (about six pounds), was outdoors in the sun, and the people were pretty sound. But there wasn't enough work to last all the employees, so it was a case of last in, first out, but I at least got three days out of this one.
And now we're both working for a telemarketing company, trying to sell mobile phones. There's a base rate to ensure we don't starve, but most of the money is made through commission, so we'll see how it goes. We're both looking for better jobs though. Personally, I'm just waiting for the job advert seeking an immediate vacancy for a roving music journalist on $100,000 a year....
Aside from the jobhunting, we haven't really done very much since we arrived, partly due to having nae cash, and partly because our time here has been interrupted by Xmas and New Year. We spent Xmas in the hostel, with a champagne brekky by the pool and then a full Xmas dinner and Xmas supper.
It was good to spend the day lazing round in the sun, and generally mucking round in the pool. We were out in Perth on Hogmanay, our hostel is in the 'trendy' area of Northbridge (imagine Camden in London or The Grassmarket in Edinburgh, but with more pissed British people and no rain and you're getting close), so we spent the night at the street party there, walking between the stages and through the huge crowds until the fireworks.
So now we've moved into a flat with a couple of Ozzies, business student Tim and Journalism graduate Leah, and we're trying to save a bit of cash to buy a car and keep on moving. Hope everybody is fully recovered from the festivities and glad to be back at work.
Friday, September 04, 2009
Home Alone
Thanks to rain of Biblical proprtions yesterday - it was raining heavily when I got up at 6.15am, was still chucking down when I got home at 5.30pm, was absolutely belting down when I went to bed at 10pm and continued through the night - I am stuck at home.
Despite the fact that we're in one of the wettest parts of the world, our rail system can't cope with the water, and all trains are cancelled or severely delayed.
Which means that I'm "working from home" today, which means that I'm working in significantly greater comfort than I'm used to.
For a start, I'm in jeans, a jumper and thick woolly socks. NME TV is on in the background. I can eat what I like when I like.
And I'm realising once again that there's no way I could ever work from home permanently - I just don't have the discipline. I need to be in an air-conditioned office wearing proper work clothes to get me in the work frame of mind.
Still, one day isn't going to hurt.
Despite the fact that we're in one of the wettest parts of the world, our rail system can't cope with the water, and all trains are cancelled or severely delayed.
Which means that I'm "working from home" today, which means that I'm working in significantly greater comfort than I'm used to.
For a start, I'm in jeans, a jumper and thick woolly socks. NME TV is on in the background. I can eat what I like when I like.
And I'm realising once again that there's no way I could ever work from home permanently - I just don't have the discipline. I need to be in an air-conditioned office wearing proper work clothes to get me in the work frame of mind.
Still, one day isn't going to hurt.
Friday, July 03, 2009
An Unwelcome Lift
Today, for the first time in my 29 years roaming the Earth, I found myself stuck in a lift.
Returning from a lunchtime game of five-a-side football, myself and five colleagues decided that, instead of climbing the stairs from the basement of our building, we would take the lift to our second floor office.
Upon entering the lift, just as we were about to begin our ascent, one of my colleagues jumped up and down a few times to shake the lift for a laugh. But in doing so it seemed he tripped a brake.
We had only barely started moving when the lift came to an abrupt halt. Pressing the buttons for any of the building's eight floors had no effect. And so it was with some reluctance that we pressed the alarm button.
The gentleman on the other end assured us that help would be on its way imminently. Which left the six of us crammed in the lift with nothing to do except wait.
Having just returned from a strenuous game of football in a hot sports hall, we were all already sweating before entering the lift. But the enclosed space, which had no air conditioning and little ventilation meant that only a short time elapsed before all six of us were sweating buckets. And shortly after that, condensation started pouring down the elevator's mirrored walls.
The banter flowed freely while we were locked in our tiny metal cell. Although when we began to discuss which of us would be eaten first if we were trapped in the lift overnight, and five of us agreed that we'd start with our small Chinese colleague "because he'd be leanest", I could sense that the colleague in question became just a tad more concerned.
Finally, after what seemed a lifetime, but was only really 25 minutes, the engineer prised the doors opne, allowing us to gulp down some fresh air. And bask in a round of applause from our assembled colleagues.
Leaving the office today, I took the stairs.
Returning from a lunchtime game of five-a-side football, myself and five colleagues decided that, instead of climbing the stairs from the basement of our building, we would take the lift to our second floor office.
Upon entering the lift, just as we were about to begin our ascent, one of my colleagues jumped up and down a few times to shake the lift for a laugh. But in doing so it seemed he tripped a brake.
We had only barely started moving when the lift came to an abrupt halt. Pressing the buttons for any of the building's eight floors had no effect. And so it was with some reluctance that we pressed the alarm button.
The gentleman on the other end assured us that help would be on its way imminently. Which left the six of us crammed in the lift with nothing to do except wait.
Having just returned from a strenuous game of football in a hot sports hall, we were all already sweating before entering the lift. But the enclosed space, which had no air conditioning and little ventilation meant that only a short time elapsed before all six of us were sweating buckets. And shortly after that, condensation started pouring down the elevator's mirrored walls.
The banter flowed freely while we were locked in our tiny metal cell. Although when we began to discuss which of us would be eaten first if we were trapped in the lift overnight, and five of us agreed that we'd start with our small Chinese colleague "because he'd be leanest", I could sense that the colleague in question became just a tad more concerned.
Finally, after what seemed a lifetime, but was only really 25 minutes, the engineer prised the doors opne, allowing us to gulp down some fresh air. And bask in a round of applause from our assembled colleagues.
Leaving the office today, I took the stairs.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Snow Rest For The Wicked
How much I wished I was a child today.
When Baby Brother and I were younger, we lived around 30 miles from our high school, so when winter hit properly, we could often be snowed in for a whole week, six-foot drifts making the roads unpassable for all vehicles, never mind school buses.
But instead, as Aberdeen was smothered beneath a blanket of white powder, I was in my company's office from 8am to 5pm attempting to make sense of dozens of interlocked spreadsheets forecasting vessel utilisation and other equally riveting topics.
What I would have given to have instead spent the morning launching snowballs at Baby Brother and sledging down increasingly steep slopes, before moving inside once I'd lost all feeling in my extremities to warm up beside the fire.
When Baby Brother and I were younger, we lived around 30 miles from our high school, so when winter hit properly, we could often be snowed in for a whole week, six-foot drifts making the roads unpassable for all vehicles, never mind school buses.
But instead, as Aberdeen was smothered beneath a blanket of white powder, I was in my company's office from 8am to 5pm attempting to make sense of dozens of interlocked spreadsheets forecasting vessel utilisation and other equally riveting topics.
What I would have given to have instead spent the morning launching snowballs at Baby Brother and sledging down increasingly steep slopes, before moving inside once I'd lost all feeling in my extremities to warm up beside the fire.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Road To Recovery
I was back at the coalface today having had two days off to get my wisdom teeth out and recover, followed by a weekend of further recovery.
I felt fine the day after the bilateral removal, and thought that the whole process was going to prove pain free.
That was until I woke up in agony in the middle of Friday/Saturday night. It seems that the tender tissue around the stitches takes a couple of days to bruise.
So Saturday saw me increasing my dosage of painkillers, although things did improve a tad on Sunday.
The area around the spot where my lower wisdom tooth could formerly be found is still pretty tender, but I'm fairly sure I haven't burst the stitches. And the pain has, for the most part, moved into my jaw and tongue - I presume I'm using both differently while attempting not to bash my raw, stitched gum against my teeth.
Anyway, I was back at work today with breath that probably stinks to high heaven, what with having a recently-stitched wound in my mouth, and unshaven since Thursday, as my left cheek is too tender to shave.
And joy of joys, my new boss is over from Norway tomorrow - what an image I'm going to present!
I felt fine the day after the bilateral removal, and thought that the whole process was going to prove pain free.
That was until I woke up in agony in the middle of Friday/Saturday night. It seems that the tender tissue around the stitches takes a couple of days to bruise.
So Saturday saw me increasing my dosage of painkillers, although things did improve a tad on Sunday.
The area around the spot where my lower wisdom tooth could formerly be found is still pretty tender, but I'm fairly sure I haven't burst the stitches. And the pain has, for the most part, moved into my jaw and tongue - I presume I'm using both differently while attempting not to bash my raw, stitched gum against my teeth.
Anyway, I was back at work today with breath that probably stinks to high heaven, what with having a recently-stitched wound in my mouth, and unshaven since Thursday, as my left cheek is too tender to shave.
And joy of joys, my new boss is over from Norway tomorrow - what an image I'm going to present!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Smashing
The "benefits" of a second floor city centre office - best seats in the house when bus meets lorry and comes off second best.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Oktoberfest
As of 4.30pm this afternoon, I'm on holiday, and it feels like it's not a moment too soon.
For some reason, I feel knackered, so it'll be good simply to be away from 6.15am wake up calls if nothing else.
Mrs Wife and I are heading to Skegness tomorrow to see her relatives, so a lengthy road trip is in the offing. But at least we'll have a selection of quality tunes to see us down the road, amongst them the latest offerings from Oasis, Glasvegas, Elbow and Santogold, plus whatever Mrs Wife deems necessary for entertainment.
After a few days in sunny Skegness (well, hopefully sunny), we'll head north again, stopping in York for a night to break up the journey and see a bit of culture - if a cathedral and some wax works count as culture anyway.
Then it's back to Montrose to watch the Gable Endies shaft the Sons in the Division Three title race, a match that will also act as a mini blogmeet, with Dumbarton fans The Tomahawk Kid and Big Rab likely to be visiting Links Park.
The same night, I'll be down in Edinburgh for a reunion commemorating the tenth anniversary of starting universary. I can scarcely believe a decade has passed since we first left home in search of education, enlightenment, sex, drugs and rock'n'roll. I predict a messy night in store involving cheap spirits and chicken kebabs, all consumed in the vain hope of recapturing lost youth.
For some reason, I feel knackered, so it'll be good simply to be away from 6.15am wake up calls if nothing else.
Mrs Wife and I are heading to Skegness tomorrow to see her relatives, so a lengthy road trip is in the offing. But at least we'll have a selection of quality tunes to see us down the road, amongst them the latest offerings from Oasis, Glasvegas, Elbow and Santogold, plus whatever Mrs Wife deems necessary for entertainment.
After a few days in sunny Skegness (well, hopefully sunny), we'll head north again, stopping in York for a night to break up the journey and see a bit of culture - if a cathedral and some wax works count as culture anyway.
Then it's back to Montrose to watch the Gable Endies shaft the Sons in the Division Three title race, a match that will also act as a mini blogmeet, with Dumbarton fans The Tomahawk Kid and Big Rab likely to be visiting Links Park.
The same night, I'll be down in Edinburgh for a reunion commemorating the tenth anniversary of starting universary. I can scarcely believe a decade has passed since we first left home in search of education, enlightenment, sex, drugs and rock'n'roll. I predict a messy night in store involving cheap spirits and chicken kebabs, all consumed in the vain hope of recapturing lost youth.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
On The Pull
I've just arrived back at Dungroanin' following a visit to Dundee Dental Hospital.
I was sent to the hospital on the recommendation of my dentist, who spotted that one of my wisdom teeth has come through squint and is pushing against the molar in front of it, causing damage and decay.
In truth, I hadn't felt anything, but the dentist thought it best if I get the wisdom tooth checked out by the folks at the dental hospital, so I found myself there today for a preliminary examination.
And it's not good news. The molar has been damaged pretty badly, but nothing can be done to attempt to save it until the wisdom tooth has been removed. And dentists prefer to remove wisdom teeth in pairs, so I'm to find myself back in the chair before too long to have the upper and lower wisdom teeth on one side of my mouth whisked out.
I was offered three options for having the work done - a local anaesthetic injection that will numb my mouth but keep me fully aware during the procedure; a general anaesthetic so that I know nothing about it until I wake up with two gaping holes in my mouth; and a halfway house that would make me pretty groggy but keep me awake during the procedure, albeit leaving me away with the fairies afterwards.
I've had a few fillings in my time and have always managed just fine with the local anaesthetic injections, so I thought I'd brave it out and have the teeth removed while fully aware of what's happening.
Which maybe, on reflection, isn't the best idea - the dentist explained that the problem tooth will be split in two and the two roots removed separately, while the one that is being removed to make a matching set will be ripped out in a single effort.
When I described what was going to happen when I undergo this oral smash'n'grab, Mrs Wife baulked a little and reminded me that she had a general anaesthetic when she had her wisdom teeth removed.
But it's too late now, so I'll just have to remember that it'll all be over in less than an hour and I'll be fit to engage in retail therapy afterwards. And that I should get between two days and a week off work to recover.
I was sent to the hospital on the recommendation of my dentist, who spotted that one of my wisdom teeth has come through squint and is pushing against the molar in front of it, causing damage and decay.
In truth, I hadn't felt anything, but the dentist thought it best if I get the wisdom tooth checked out by the folks at the dental hospital, so I found myself there today for a preliminary examination.
And it's not good news. The molar has been damaged pretty badly, but nothing can be done to attempt to save it until the wisdom tooth has been removed. And dentists prefer to remove wisdom teeth in pairs, so I'm to find myself back in the chair before too long to have the upper and lower wisdom teeth on one side of my mouth whisked out.
I was offered three options for having the work done - a local anaesthetic injection that will numb my mouth but keep me fully aware during the procedure; a general anaesthetic so that I know nothing about it until I wake up with two gaping holes in my mouth; and a halfway house that would make me pretty groggy but keep me awake during the procedure, albeit leaving me away with the fairies afterwards.
I've had a few fillings in my time and have always managed just fine with the local anaesthetic injections, so I thought I'd brave it out and have the teeth removed while fully aware of what's happening.
Which maybe, on reflection, isn't the best idea - the dentist explained that the problem tooth will be split in two and the two roots removed separately, while the one that is being removed to make a matching set will be ripped out in a single effort.
When I described what was going to happen when I undergo this oral smash'n'grab, Mrs Wife baulked a little and reminded me that she had a general anaesthetic when she had her wisdom teeth removed.
But it's too late now, so I'll just have to remember that it'll all be over in less than an hour and I'll be fit to engage in retail therapy afterwards. And that I should get between two days and a week off work to recover.
Monday, September 29, 2008
The Kids Are Alright
I'm knackered.
Over the weekend, Dungroanin' played host to an old schoolfriend of Mrs Wife's, accompanied by her two-year-old son.
It's been the best part of 23 years since I lived with a two-year-old boy, and at that time Baby Brother was more of an apprentice than a hindrance.
I've been up more climbing frames, down more chutes and round more roundabouts in the past two days than in the previous two years.
And our little visitor is at the stage where he needs to know what everything is, why everything is, where everything is and who everyone is.
Mrs Wife's rabbits, Pepper and Dylan, have now been rechristened Paper and Dinnae, and were a source of much excitement. As was the local park, the beach, dogs in the park and a football-shaped bottle opener that emits a crowd noise every time it's used.
But the 5.30am wake-up calls have taken their toll, and I'm now feeling more exhausted than I did at the end of the working week.
Just as well we were able to send him home today....
Over the weekend, Dungroanin' played host to an old schoolfriend of Mrs Wife's, accompanied by her two-year-old son.
It's been the best part of 23 years since I lived with a two-year-old boy, and at that time Baby Brother was more of an apprentice than a hindrance.
I've been up more climbing frames, down more chutes and round more roundabouts in the past two days than in the previous two years.
And our little visitor is at the stage where he needs to know what everything is, why everything is, where everything is and who everyone is.
Mrs Wife's rabbits, Pepper and Dylan, have now been rechristened Paper and Dinnae, and were a source of much excitement. As was the local park, the beach, dogs in the park and a football-shaped bottle opener that emits a crowd noise every time it's used.
But the 5.30am wake-up calls have taken their toll, and I'm now feeling more exhausted than I did at the end of the working week.
Just as well we were able to send him home today....
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Answers
Tomorrow night sees my company's second annual employee pub quiz.
Mrs Wife will be accompanying me, a colleague and his wife as we attempt to do better than we fared in last year's event, when we led early on before tailing off later into the event.
So, to get everyone in the mood, here are five random questions. Answers in the comments, no Googling.
1. What is the capital city of Tanzania?
2. In the nursery rhyme, who visited the person with the little nut tree?
3. Who won the Formula 1 Drivers Championship in 2000?
4. What did the Romans call Paris?
5. Which actor plays Ali G and Borat?
Mrs Wife will be accompanying me, a colleague and his wife as we attempt to do better than we fared in last year's event, when we led early on before tailing off later into the event.
So, to get everyone in the mood, here are five random questions. Answers in the comments, no Googling.
1. What is the capital city of Tanzania?
2. In the nursery rhyme, who visited the person with the little nut tree?
3. Who won the Formula 1 Drivers Championship in 2000?
4. What did the Romans call Paris?
5. Which actor plays Ali G and Borat?
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
That Was The Week That Was
I'm operating on zombie-esque levels of sleep now what with the combination of Norway, Connect and being back at work today.
Norway was a strange experience - any country where three pizzas costs £75 and a round of drinks more than £100 is a tad too pricey for me. But we managed to see a bit of Stavanger in between the work sessions, and found enough free drink to keep ourselves going without taking out a second mortgage. A party on a traditional sailing ship in the sunshine on Stavanger harbour was the highlight of our time.
Our stay in Stavanger was fairly short, and within a couple of days my merry band was heading to Inveraray for the second Connect festival.
Highlights from the weekend were an incendiary set from Gossip, an all-too-short mid-afternoon slot by Elbow, a nostalgic run through Gomez's debut album and Friday night's headliners Kasabian blasting through their greatest hits.
And lest we forget, Rangers pumped Celtic 4-2 at Parkhead.
All in all, it's been a great week!
Norway was a strange experience - any country where three pizzas costs £75 and a round of drinks more than £100 is a tad too pricey for me. But we managed to see a bit of Stavanger in between the work sessions, and found enough free drink to keep ourselves going without taking out a second mortgage. A party on a traditional sailing ship in the sunshine on Stavanger harbour was the highlight of our time.
Our stay in Stavanger was fairly short, and within a couple of days my merry band was heading to Inveraray for the second Connect festival.
Highlights from the weekend were an incendiary set from Gossip, an all-too-short mid-afternoon slot by Elbow, a nostalgic run through Gomez's debut album and Friday night's headliners Kasabian blasting through their greatest hits.
And lest we forget, Rangers pumped Celtic 4-2 at Parkhead.
All in all, it's been a great week!
Sunday, August 24, 2008
North Then South
The week ahead promises to be a busy one, with a spot of jet-setting preceding a weekend of music and pear cider in Argyll.
Tomorrow I fly out to Stavanger with five colleagues for the Offshore North Sea conference. I've never been to Norway before, so the novelty factor alone will make it an interesting trip, although the fact that I have to work while across the North Sea will take a little of the shine off.
Still, it's another corner of the world I'll be seeing for the first time, and it certainly beats three days stuck in the office.
I'm home alone at the moment as I prepare for my trip, Mrs Wife having left Dungroanin' on Thursday bound for Edinburgh and Cardiff, the former to take in some festival shows and the latter to see REM for the first time.
I'll arrive home from Scandinavia late on Wednesday night, and after a day in the office on Thursday, I'll be away to Inveraray for the second Connect Festival, where the bill this year includes Kasabian, Manic Street Preachers, Gomez, Franz Ferdinand and, most exciting of all from my point of view, Elbow.
Last year's festival felt like a well-kept secret, but I would imagine that this year's line-up will mean that a bigger crowd turns out. Still, as long as the weather holds and the pear cider is flowing, I'm sure it'll be another weekend to remember.
Tomorrow I fly out to Stavanger with five colleagues for the Offshore North Sea conference. I've never been to Norway before, so the novelty factor alone will make it an interesting trip, although the fact that I have to work while across the North Sea will take a little of the shine off.
Still, it's another corner of the world I'll be seeing for the first time, and it certainly beats three days stuck in the office.
I'm home alone at the moment as I prepare for my trip, Mrs Wife having left Dungroanin' on Thursday bound for Edinburgh and Cardiff, the former to take in some festival shows and the latter to see REM for the first time.
I'll arrive home from Scandinavia late on Wednesday night, and after a day in the office on Thursday, I'll be away to Inveraray for the second Connect Festival, where the bill this year includes Kasabian, Manic Street Preachers, Gomez, Franz Ferdinand and, most exciting of all from my point of view, Elbow.
Last year's festival felt like a well-kept secret, but I would imagine that this year's line-up will mean that a bigger crowd turns out. Still, as long as the weather holds and the pear cider is flowing, I'm sure it'll be another weekend to remember.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
In Action
I've been a bit lax in contributing to the Blogosphere over the past few days (weeks...months...), but my excuse since Saturday comes in the form of my first game of 11-a-side football in a few years, something I mentioned recently.
(Photograph courtesy of Cedric Raguenaud)
Though I drag my sorry carcass around the five-a-side pitches of Aberdeen twice a week, it's been a few years since I donned the boots and thumped around a proper grass pitch.
Well, that changed on Saturday when a team formed from the male employees of my company took on a former employee and his old school friends.
There was a fair gulf in class - the opposition counted amongst their number several players who play at amateur and junior level, while our side included one or two players who had never played in a full-size football match before.
Unsurprisingly, we were beaten, and unsurprisingly the defeat was fairly comprehensive, finishing 7-1 to the younger, fitter side.
But we gave a good account of ourselves and in truth the scoreline wasn't a fair reflection of the match, especially as our first-choice goalkeeper was injured making a penalty save in the 15th minute.
Lest anyone doubt my abilities as a combative striker, here I am in full flight, the massed ranks of the opposition attempting to prevent me scoring (an objective they succeeded in achieving....)
(Photograph courtesy of Cedric Raguenaud)
Monday, May 05, 2008
Happy Holidays
Having never enjoyed the benefits of Bank Holidays off work when with my previous employer, I'm always very appreciative when I get a Monday off with the rest of the working world.
That's especially true when it seems that summer has arrived, as was the case today with barely a cloud in the sky. And so, armed with the Magic Tune Box loaded with the newly-acquired albums by Portishead and The Courteeners, Alexander McCall Smith's fourth No.1 Ladies Detective Agency book and a drink, I spent most of the afternoon baking in the May sunshine.
As a result, my arms are now a lurid lobster pink - which is a progression from corned beef grey, the standard hue of the Scotsman on his own soil.
But now the haar is rolling in and the working week is lumbering in to view. And my arms are stinging a bit.
Still, it was good while it lasted.
That's especially true when it seems that summer has arrived, as was the case today with barely a cloud in the sky. And so, armed with the Magic Tune Box loaded with the newly-acquired albums by Portishead and The Courteeners, Alexander McCall Smith's fourth No.1 Ladies Detective Agency book and a drink, I spent most of the afternoon baking in the May sunshine.
As a result, my arms are now a lurid lobster pink - which is a progression from corned beef grey, the standard hue of the Scotsman on his own soil.
But now the haar is rolling in and the working week is lumbering in to view. And my arms are stinging a bit.
Still, it was good while it lasted.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Don and Out
Sometimes, being a football fan is a spectacularly unrewarding experience.
But there are days when all the years of dull as Dido nil-nil draws and all the hours spent shivering in Scotland's concrete stands seems worth it. Today was one of those days.
As a Rangers fan working in an Aberdeen office full of Dons fans, the opportunity to engage in football-related banter presents itself regularly. The joy I took in watching the Pittodrie side lose to lowly Queen of the South in today's Scottish Cup semi-final could only have been greater if it had been Celtic on the receiving end of the embarrasing footballing lesson.
Four times Aberdeen fell behind and three times they equalised. Each time they scored, I was convinced that the Doonhammers' dream was over. But Aberdeen's ineptness was exceeded only by Queens' determination to win.
It's almost enough to make me wish I wasn't on holiday on Monday.
But there are days when all the years of dull as Dido nil-nil draws and all the hours spent shivering in Scotland's concrete stands seems worth it. Today was one of those days.
As a Rangers fan working in an Aberdeen office full of Dons fans, the opportunity to engage in football-related banter presents itself regularly. The joy I took in watching the Pittodrie side lose to lowly Queen of the South in today's Scottish Cup semi-final could only have been greater if it had been Celtic on the receiving end of the embarrasing footballing lesson.
Four times Aberdeen fell behind and three times they equalised. Each time they scored, I was convinced that the Doonhammers' dream was over. But Aberdeen's ineptness was exceeded only by Queens' determination to win.
It's almost enough to make me wish I wasn't on holiday on Monday.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Of Hiccups, Monster Bobs and Visas
The dust is finally settling on a fairly hectic weekend and I'm almost able to keep my eyes open long enough to post, so I'll try to collect my thoughts.
Friday's working day culminated in a leaving night for a fellow employee, and the drink was flowing freely at the start of the evening. My recollections of events are hazy, but I'm told that my Elvis impersonation kept my colleagues amused.
Thankfully, I had the sense to bail out before things got too messy, and instead subjected the passengers on the Aberdeen to Montrose train to a spectacular bout of hiccups that lasted for the duration of the journey. These hiccups were more like sonic booms, and were so loud that I could hear them above Definitely Maybe cranked up full blast on the Magic Tune Box.
Having arrived in Montrose, I decided that food was required, and treated myself to a pizza. The first bite removed removed several layers off the interior lining of my mouth, and in shock I managed to spill molten cheese on both my hands. All in all, a fairly eventful post-pub meal.
After staggering from the pizza shop to Dungroanin', I managed to scare Pepper, Mrs Wife's rabbit, half to death, then retreated to bed.
Unfortunately, Saturday dawned for me at the early hour of 7.30am. Unable to get back to sleep, I settled on the couch, wrapped in a fake fur throw, and allowed my hangover to build up a head of steam.
What I found out later in the day was that a combination of hail, snow, horizontal rain and howling winds, mixed with the standard of football offered up in an end-of-season Angus derby, is enough to shift even the most stubborn of hangovers.
Though the match wasn't dire, the standard of refereeing, in a league renowned for atrocious officials, was honking, and the man in black's performance was enough in itself to deny Montrose a confirmed play-off spot. For a week at least.
And so Saturday night started with me shivering, attempting to restore my core body temperature to something above freezing and preparing for a second consecutive night on the lash.
I believe a good time was had by all, with most of the assembled crowd enjoying their first visit to Roo's Leap. This vast amount of food was washed down with a few civilised drinks....
....Which doesn't really explain how I ended up finally going to bed at 6am, having woken the whole house with an impromptu didgeridoo solo.
My body clock must still be on British Winter Time, because I awoke at 8.30am, unable to do anything but doze fitfully until my lift to Dundee arrived. Why Dundee? To take in the Dundee United v Rangers SPL match, one of the more entertaining games I've been to this season, albeit one in which the final result left a lot to be desired. But no team can expect to go behind three times and still win a match.
A long day at work on Monday was followed by a trip north to Ellon, where Mrs Wife acquired her second rabbit, a bouncing boy now known as Dylan (in tribute to Robert Zimmerman, not The Magic Roundabout).
Introducing Dylan and Pepper has been a high-tension affair. Pepper is no longer in possession of her womanly organs, but Dylan still has a full set of boy bits, and he's eager to use them. So far, as Pepper has investigated this newcomer, she's smacked him around the nose a few times and attempted to give him a warning nibble on the nose. But Dylan seems to take this as foreplay, so there may be testing times ahead.
Yesterday, the 28th anniversary of my arrival on this planet, saw Mrs Wife and I venture south to Edinburgh, with the intention of collecting our Chinese visas. Unfortunately, the Chinese Consulate is an awkward beast, and no amount of discussion or offers of cash would tempt them to process the application in a single day. Which means that I'll have to make a return journey next week.
So, a busy weekend means I'm pretty shattered and looking forward to a few evenings of realxing on the sofa to recuperate.
I must be getting old.
Friday's working day culminated in a leaving night for a fellow employee, and the drink was flowing freely at the start of the evening. My recollections of events are hazy, but I'm told that my Elvis impersonation kept my colleagues amused.
Thankfully, I had the sense to bail out before things got too messy, and instead subjected the passengers on the Aberdeen to Montrose train to a spectacular bout of hiccups that lasted for the duration of the journey. These hiccups were more like sonic booms, and were so loud that I could hear them above Definitely Maybe cranked up full blast on the Magic Tune Box.
Having arrived in Montrose, I decided that food was required, and treated myself to a pizza. The first bite removed removed several layers off the interior lining of my mouth, and in shock I managed to spill molten cheese on both my hands. All in all, a fairly eventful post-pub meal.
After staggering from the pizza shop to Dungroanin', I managed to scare Pepper, Mrs Wife's rabbit, half to death, then retreated to bed.
Unfortunately, Saturday dawned for me at the early hour of 7.30am. Unable to get back to sleep, I settled on the couch, wrapped in a fake fur throw, and allowed my hangover to build up a head of steam.
What I found out later in the day was that a combination of hail, snow, horizontal rain and howling winds, mixed with the standard of football offered up in an end-of-season Angus derby, is enough to shift even the most stubborn of hangovers.
Though the match wasn't dire, the standard of refereeing, in a league renowned for atrocious officials, was honking, and the man in black's performance was enough in itself to deny Montrose a confirmed play-off spot. For a week at least.
And so Saturday night started with me shivering, attempting to restore my core body temperature to something above freezing and preparing for a second consecutive night on the lash.
I believe a good time was had by all, with most of the assembled crowd enjoying their first visit to Roo's Leap. This vast amount of food was washed down with a few civilised drinks....
....Which doesn't really explain how I ended up finally going to bed at 6am, having woken the whole house with an impromptu didgeridoo solo.
My body clock must still be on British Winter Time, because I awoke at 8.30am, unable to do anything but doze fitfully until my lift to Dundee arrived. Why Dundee? To take in the Dundee United v Rangers SPL match, one of the more entertaining games I've been to this season, albeit one in which the final result left a lot to be desired. But no team can expect to go behind three times and still win a match.
A long day at work on Monday was followed by a trip north to Ellon, where Mrs Wife acquired her second rabbit, a bouncing boy now known as Dylan (in tribute to Robert Zimmerman, not The Magic Roundabout).
Introducing Dylan and Pepper has been a high-tension affair. Pepper is no longer in possession of her womanly organs, but Dylan still has a full set of boy bits, and he's eager to use them. So far, as Pepper has investigated this newcomer, she's smacked him around the nose a few times and attempted to give him a warning nibble on the nose. But Dylan seems to take this as foreplay, so there may be testing times ahead.
Yesterday, the 28th anniversary of my arrival on this planet, saw Mrs Wife and I venture south to Edinburgh, with the intention of collecting our Chinese visas. Unfortunately, the Chinese Consulate is an awkward beast, and no amount of discussion or offers of cash would tempt them to process the application in a single day. Which means that I'll have to make a return journey next week.
So, a busy weekend means I'm pretty shattered and looking forward to a few evenings of realxing on the sofa to recuperate.
I must be getting old.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Holiday? What Holiday?
It seems that Aberdeen is the most heathen city in Scotland, if not the world.
Whilst everyone else in this rainy corner of the world gets an extra two days off this weekend to celebrate the death of a bearded magician 2,000-odd years ago, Aberdeen is a rule unto itself.
No Easter holiday for the Granite City. No siree. Everyone is expected to be present and correct (or at the very least, present) on both Good Friday and Easter Monday.
Shame on you Aberdeen Public Holiday Deciders. What the hell (pardon the seasonal blasphemy) is the reason for Aberdeen's non-participation in the holiday?
Why is my company's Norwegian office closed for A WHOLE WEEK, when we poor Scots are subject to normal days of office-bound tedium?
It may be fair comment that, in the absence of Jocklings with whom to roll Easter eggs, I'd probably only spend a long weekend eating chocolate versions of the same and hot cross buns, and watching whatever Disney movie is foisted upon us.
But that's beside the point. I would be very grateful, oh Aberdeen Public Holiday Deciders, if, in your infinite wisdom, you could make some attempt to align the holidays in this grey and cold city with those elsewhere in the country - even 40 miles south, where Mrs Wife is afforded the normal holidays as celebrated by EVERY OTHER PART OF THE UK.
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