Back to Part Five | Up to top | Forward to Part Seven
steph's Diary
Part VI
`Asymptote Days'
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Nov 21 22:13:25 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: He is the closed circle
I have a theory, that my life goes round in circles, the same things always
happening to me year after year. I look at the past incarnations of this diary
and they are full of new dawns and new starts, each brimming with hope that
this time I have broken the cycle and each as doomed to the last to crash to a
new variation on the same old theme. I'm sure that each time I've done this
I've meant it, and the sentiment of the last few entries of Part Five is very
much the same as all these other false starts.
And my hope, happiness, and resolution seem to be going the same way. I'm not
sure whether I should have predicted this and steeled myself for it, whether
there's something I could have done to prevent it... Or whether there's
something in the belief in such a cyclical destiny that makes it a
self-fulfilling prophecy: because I believe it'll happen, I doom myself to
unrequited love, unhappiness at work, and an unquiet mind.
The only time I've felt free of it was that strange interlude from 2002
to earlier this year where I was intentionally single, interested in nobody,
and quite content to stay that way. There was depression, to be sure, but
it wasn't the urgent uncertain depression of situations and people, but rather
the dull causeless mope. It seems a long way off now, even though it was at
most six months ago, and I almost yearn for it, except that there's still
something stirring in me that wants more, and that doesn't want to be satisfied
with emotional subsistence.
So, as we embark on this new Part, there are two things I need to do: first, to
thank someone lovely for understanding and caring above and beyond; and second,
to continue a train of thought about my love life that I started back in July.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Nov 24 15:18:47 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Let's talk about you and me
You may remember that some months ago I made a post about what I thought about
sex and relationships. http://www.greenend.org.uk/steph/diary5.shtml#42ED6083
if you want to refresh your memory. A friend said to me the other day:
`Well, sleeping with [Fred] would be much less worrying than sleeping with you,
because you know he wouldn't take it seriously.'
And there's the rub. The very fact that I make diary entries entitled `Let's
talk about sex' is a symptom of a problem: even when it comes to the idea of
less `entangled' sex (`a lighthearted fling' or `an affair' were two ways
friends put it) for me it is still something serious. Perhaps this is just my
inexperience speaking, but I think it would matter a lot to me, and it's hard
to imagine a situation in which it wouldn't. Perhaps that's a good thing -- it
can't be bad to approach these things with a fully-functioning brain -- but on
the other hand perhaps that same seriousness would be worrying.
Looking back at that post from earlier this year, apart from it feeling an age
away, I wonder whether I still agree with it. Although I started out thinking
that some sort of semi-casual fling was what I wanted, I think I may have been
carrying over from my intentionally-single phase a fear of relationships. But
when I start becoming interested in people as potential partners, I find that I
place a much greater value on the prospective `company' and `doing fun stuff
together'. Sure, I do want to sleep with them, and that plays into desires and
fantasies and the way I think about them, but it's not as much of an end in
itself as I expected when setting out on all this.
So it feels like I've started to want a relationship after all, or at least
that it's among the set of things I'd be interested in with the right sort of
person, and in my previous post I was extrapolating unhappy endings from too
small a sample size to be able to reach any meaningful conclusions. However,
when it comes to relationships, there's almost inevitably a build-up where
you get to know someone and spend time with them. In that situation I find
that the same intensity and seriousness I mentioned earlier come into play
along with the thinking and angsting (`Are they interested?', `Am I
interested?', `Is this wise?' and other uncertainties), and when that combines
with depression it makes the whole thing so much more of an emotional roller-
coaster than it probably is for anyone. If that shows at all, I can see how it
would scare people off.
On the other hand, another friend put it well:
`You're already an angsty nuisance. Anyone who can't cope with that isn't
going to me much use to you.'
Perhaps, with my nature, it's best that those who can't cope with me-as-I-am
_are_ warned off by my angsty nuisance nature? Or there's the other
possibility: that I am not well-suited to the feelings and uncertainty that go
with the territory. Would it be better for me if I just dropped the whole
thing, resigned myself to perpetual singleness, and learned to live happily
with that? In short, is the potential of the end result worthwhile, given the
difficulty I have dealing with the _process_?
The other question, which I suppose I ought to ask as a follow-on to this, is
what do I want from something I'd call a relationship anyway?
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Nov 26 00:27:25 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: It's getting cold in California
One moment, it's all normal, nothing doing. Then it's a moment of focus and
realisation, a taste of iron, the world goes buzzy. I'm aware of snatches of
conversation, a confused face, but it's all a blur. Heartbeat's crazy, too
jittery to cycle, need to stop and regroup but it has to be complicated. It
works but there'll be hell to pay. Tears. Sympathy. Cold.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Nov 27 00:30:36 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: It's Indie Rock & Roll For Me
And a lot of assorted other stuff, at the big joint birthday party. My setlet:
Antidote - Dream Disciples
Body of the Fish - The Horatii
Drop Dead Gorgeous - Republica
Hooks in You (Meaty Mix) - Marillion
I Think I'm Paranoid - Garbage
Ready To Go - Republica
seemed to go down well. I left a bit early, but on a big high and with a big
smile. I'm still smiling right now; anything else is for another time.
Happy Birthdays.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Nov 27 18:38:22 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Sisters, Sisters
Still in a good mood after a lovely pub lunch and a bit of pool with Eleanor,
her sisters Steph (confusing) and Emily, and their other halves Dave and um
I've forgotten the name right now (sorry!). Mike joined us after a bit too.
I'd already met Steph a few times before, but I'd not seen Emily before the
party last night; predictably enough they're all really nice :-). It's
fascinating how quickly Eleanor's accent went much more northern in their
company, too, especially in words like `no' and `so'. Oh, and Dave hadn't
heard the rat joke. Oops.
Because it was full on the usual lounge bar side of the Carlton we sat in the
public bar side, where I'd never been before. It feels a bit more olde-worlde,
a bit pubbier than the other side, but it's really nice.
But yeah, still happy, which ought to be confusing but isn't really when I
think about it.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Nov 28 11:06:56 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Is it something I do to myself?
I mean what I say, and I say what I mean. I know my heart well enough these
days to know what I feel, and I'm sick of treating `love' as some kind of taboo
word. Yes, I'm sad now, but I was happy yesterday, and I'm damned if I'm not
going to be happy for the same reasons tomorrow. These things pass, I know,
but they also last forever.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Nov 29 14:14:44 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Vivacity
Verity had the viva for her DPhil yesterday, and although she doesn't know how
she did (because this was an Oxford viva held in Cambridge, and Oxford are evil
like that) she was celebrating anyway. First at the Castle with Gareth, Simon,
and me, and later at the Gallery with Ben as well. Beer, champagne, wine, and
cherry bakewells were consumed, and there was lots of conversation about life,
the universe, and everything. A good evening, with the only real surprise
being that I woke up this morning both (a) feeling fine and (b) on time for
work.
I was chatting to Mike on Sunday about booze, and I said that I didn't really
drink that much. Looking back at the past few days, though, I see several
pints on Saturday, another two on Sunday with mulled wine in the evening, and
then two more last night with a few glasses of champagne and wine as well.
Then this lunchtime there was, um, another pint. Oops.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Dec 01 00:07:11 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: The barman wipes away the warm wet circles
Not wanting to quiz, I joined Kate at the Castle for a few drinks instead.
Earlier than planned, because the swimming pool was closed due to a broken
boiler, and I didn't have the effort to find anywhere else in town to eat.
We nattered about vets, life, weddings, and later when Matthew and Carys joined
us, religion and bikes. A pleasantly distracting way to pass the evening.
I cycled home in the slight rain, reflecting on life as November draws to an
end. It was one of the deadlines I set myself for finding out things for sure,
and I can at least congratulate myself on meeting it if possibly not on a great
deal else.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Dec 02 00:13:42 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Five hundred more
Love, caring for people, wanting them to be happy, is the most powerful thing
in the universe. It can conquer fear and depression, and even the circle. It
does not want to, but by its nature it has to and it will make you understand
why. Earlier this evening there was a brick wall, and no exit. Now, as the
wind blows away the tears, there's a road ahead. Not a straight road, nor one
without its potholes and blind corners, but still a road. Let us travel it for
a while.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Dec 04 14:34:26 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Picking up the pieces
Not written here for a few days, but then not a great deal has happened I've
felt like noting since Thursday. I'm still gently pleased at doing something
courageous and coming out of the other side unscathed, but otherwise it's
status quo: sometimes up, sometimes down, and trying not to hurt or annoy
people too badly either way. Not really for me to say whether that bit's
working...
I completely failed to get enough Christmas shopping done yesterday, which is a
depressing and stressful thought with Gallery Christmas only a week away. I
managed to get a bit more done just now, which makes me feel a little better,
but there'll still have to be some midweek dashing and possibly a last-minute
shop on Saturday.
In between all this, though, I've been doing a jigsaw. It's a lovely big one
that Vicky (I think) bought me a few years ago, and I've only just got around
to doing it, dilatory fellow that I am. Some progress pictures:
http://www.greenend.org.uk/owen/jigsaws/jigsaw01.jpg
http://www.greenend.org.uk/owen/jigsaws/jigsaw02.jpg
Some of the pieces form little sub-butterflies
http://www.greenend.org.uk/owen/jigsaws/jigsaw-butterfly.jpg
which, once the whole thing was finished,
http://www.greenend.org.uk/owen/jigsaws/jigsaw03.jpg
I took out to leave little butterfly shaped holes:
http://www.greenend.org.uk/owen/jigsaws/jigsaw-holes.jpg
You'll notice that the outline of the puzzle changes as I go along. One of the
problems with an irregular border is that you have no idea how much stuff is
inside and keep having to adjust it as you go along. Bit like my life really.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Dec 07 01:20:59 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Shut up and dance
An evening at the Calling. Got there a little early, but not too early.
Drank, but not too much. Danced, but not too much. Chatted with friends and
talked to pretty new people, but not too much. All in all, not quite enough.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Dec 11 00:43:09 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: London Calling
Well, London Bmovie, but I don't know any songs about that. Although it was a
bit quiet early on -- we may always say that but I think it was particularly
true this month -- I had a good evening. Perhaps it was extra beer, but I was
in a good mood for talking to people I don't see that often, and just having
those conversations with nice people left me with a smile. Add to that a fair
bit of dancing and my only grumble is the self-inflicted one of having to leave
early to catch the last train. Still, I had the company of Clare and EJ for
the journey back, so it doesn't do to grumble too much.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Dec 12 12:44:05 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Christmas Presence
It was Christmas at the Gallery yesterday. It's become something of a
tradition, and it's still really great to gather with friends for a huge
Christmas dinner, an afternoon's post-dinner slumpage (complete with `Mary
Poppins', which I'd not seen before: very bizarre), and then an evening of
presents and shared jollity. I got some lovely things: The Archers and London
Underground board games from Gareth and Verity, a book of 19th Century
inventions from James, a noisy swirly drum-thing from Richard and Louise, and
other lovely little things. The presents I gave went down well too; I'm still
inordinately proud of the sieve-clock I made for Gareth ,and possibly even
prouder of the fact that I managed not to tell everyone else about it
beforehand!
Yay for Christmas with lovely friends. And of course that makes today an
excuse to say Happy Boxing Day!
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Dec 12 14:54:12 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: This ticket ain't golden it's tainted brass
Argh. A week or so ago I booked a ticket for the Xfm Winter Wonderland gig
tonight -- no bands I'm particularly familiar with, but that's not stopped me
enjoying things so far this year -- and it arrived late last week. Except it
was for the wrong part of the venue, so the woman from Express Events got in
touch to say that she'd meet me to exchange the ticket on the night. A bit
faffsome, but she was fixing her mistake so I wasn't too bothered. This
morning she phoned me to say that she was ill and wouldn't be able to do this,
and tried to arrange for a friend to get it to me. Still just about OK, but it
then turns out that none of her friends can get there in time, so she suggests
something complicated involving going into the venue with the ticket I have and
swapping with someone else, going out, and coming back in. I lost track, and
maybe it's perfectly normal and sensible if you're used to these things, but at
this point it's all starting to feel like a big pile of stressy doom.
Perhaps if I weren't also feeling under the weather I'd be able to make it down
there and negotiate the faff to have a good evening, but it all got too much
for me so I'm going to go to bed instead. But I'm cross, both with Express
Events for being incompetent, and with myself for not being sufficiently
relaxed to cope with their incompetence. Grump.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Dec 14 10:14:19 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Right round
Ben and Clare are great. Two weeks after getting a bike I got a puncture, and
although Ben helped me fix it, I've since been a little bothered by the
possible annoyance of it happening again. Last night I opened their joint
Christmas present to me: a pair of puncture-resistant tyres for my bike! Once
I have fitted them I shall not fear small shards of glass from the perennially
vandalised bus shelter on the way to work :-).
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Dec 20 14:55:58 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
I'm playing catch-up here, though there's less to relate than there might have
been. Towards the end of last week I was still fighting off a cold, and
spending evenings at home in an attempt to kill it off. By Saturday, I'd just
about managed it and travelled down with Ian and Mobbsy to visit Chris Joseph
and Kathryn. David joined us on the train at Reading. It's been a while since
I've seen Chris, and I'd not met Kathryn before, so it was good to renew and
make acquaintances. Kathryn being a long-haired classicist I can natter with
about Latin and linguistics, she reminds me slightly of Verity. (Yes, I know
Verity is blonde, shorter, and an ASNaC, but nevertheless...) David drank a
lot of mead, so by the morning the kitchen breakfast party was taking turns to
prod his hungover sleeping form with queries about coffee, bacon, and scrambled
eggs.
Back to Cambridge by train on Sunday afternoon, giving me a chance to collect
Oxford and Reading stations, though by the evening I was shattered. I suspect
that although I feel I sleep OK in a sleeping bag on the floor, my body begs to
differ.
Monday afternoon was Christmas shopping for my family. My mother is incredibly
easy to buy for, and for a change I had an idea about something for my father,
so that leaves my brother and his girlfriend and my little nephew Drew. No
idea what to get the former two; as for Drew I had the idea that I wanted
something shiny and interesting to get his attention but ideally something
_quiet_ that wouldn't play annoying beepy tunes. Finding something to satisfy
these requirements is harder than you might think.
In the evening was the Carlton Christmas dinner, which was a good way to see
lots of people before they all vanish home. Large quantities of food in
general, a superfluity of peas, and an insufficiency of parsnips. Lovely
company buoyed my mood throughout the evening.
Today I am mostly faffing. I have the rest of the Christmas shopping to do,
and other things to organise, and yet here I am writing diary entries...
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Dec 22 23:47:05 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Home For Christmas
I'll be collected for Christmas with my parents at some point tomorrow morning,
so, with apologies to anyone I've not said it to already by voice or by festive
cardboard greeting: Merry Christmas! I hope to see some of you on New Year's
Eve, but for those I don't, Happy New Year, and I look forward to your company
in an exciting 2006!
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Dec 27 17:37:14 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: It might never snow again in England
Although we're a way from fulfilling the pessimism of Marillion's `Season's
End', the snow was more and longer and deeper when I was young. I was reminded
of this by this morning's flurries as I was driven back to Cambridge from
Christmas with my parents. I had a good few days there, perhaps remarkably so
given both their faltering health, and between conversation, food, and TV the
time flew by. For the second year running my mother and I got each other the
same book: Alan Bennett's `Untold Stories'; last year's coincidence was `Eats
Shoots & Leaves'. No less appreciated for that, though. Other presents
included some new Egyptian cotton towels, a dressing gown, a hairdryer, some
pannier bags, `Thud!', some cookery books, and Kate Bush's `Aerial'. My
parents are great :-).
The TV was good this year too, with the `Doctor Who' Christmas special
providing a particular highlight. My parents gave up on the new series because
they hated Eccleston, but they thought Tennant was superb as the Doctor with
the right combination of gravitas and humour. I think he shows promise, but
a new Doctor's first story is rarely their best, so I'll reserve judgement
until we've seen a few more in the Spring.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Dec 29 14:53:17 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: The grid bug bites!
I was at my parent's on Christmas Eve, and they get the Times, so I nabbed the
bumper Sudoku section from the paper. The Times rates their puzzles easy,
mild, difficult, and fiendish, but I've never known how they correspond to the
levels in Simon's implementation: `solo' from his puzzle collection. So I've
just run all the puzzles through Simon's solver, and come up with the following
results:
Easy: all trivial
Mild: 2 basic, 7 trivial
Difficult: 8 basic, 1 extreme
Fiendish: 4 basic, 2 intermediate, 2 advanced
I'm curious as to how the Times come up with the ratings for their puzzles,
since they're not as clearly connected to reasoning methods as are Simon's.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Dec 30 11:08:01 2005]--
From: (S) a brand new day (steph)
Subject: Erratum
That should be Difficult: 9 basic. I'd solved some of the grids, and it was
slightly harder to distinguish between numbers I'd written and printed numbers.
Thus what I'd thought was the extreme:
3x3:d7e5c3_4_1a9_4b1c6e1b8_3_2a6a8a5_7_5b3e8c9b3_4a3_6_2i3d
is actually the basic:
3x3:d7e5c3_4_1a9_4b1c6e1b8_3_2a6a8a5_7_5b3e8c9b3_4a3_6_2c7e3d
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Dec 31 17:43:45 2005]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: The days go by so fast
A long December
and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year
will be better than the last
-- Counting Crows, `A Long December'
Which is not to say that this year has been bad; it's had bad parts, certainly,
but good parts too, and often both together. In hindsight, groundwork is
probably the best way to describe it: turning over the emotional soil, finding
the hidden stones, getting the lie of the land to see what will grow and what I
want to. I've never had much luck with gardening, usually because I can't be
bothered to put in the effort. Next year, while my metaphorical garden still
interests me, I'll keep putting in the effort. And then, well, we'll see what
grows.
All at once you look across a crowded room
To see the way that light attaches to a girl
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Jan 07 17:02:24 2006]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: A lode off my mind
Or on it. This morning I 'phoned Becky to work out when we were going walking,
and having arranged to meet at the Green Dragon, I had an hour or so. Aha,
thought I, I shall plug in my new computer. So I did that, and the machine
worked, and all was well until suddenly *foom* as everything spun down. How
odd. Turn the machine back on, *whirr* *foom*, *whirr* *foom*, as it seems to
start and give up immediately afterwards, repeatedly. Bah. After getting the
effort together to organise this computer and get it back to my house, it
doesn't bloody work! Grr.
While I was grumbling at the broken computer, I looked worriedly out of the
window at the snowflakes that were now falling. Having just arranged to go on
a walk, too! Fortunately it was just a shower and by the time I met Ben and
Becky at Green Dragon bridge it was warmer and mostly dry. We cycled along the
river to Bait's Bite Lock, where we crossed and made our way to Horningsea.
Collecting a coworker of Becky's en route, we then had a lovely walk to Lode.
I've visited the mill there before, when it was working, and my diary archives
reveal I even wrote some bad poetry about it:
http://www.greenend.org.uk/steph/diary4.shtml#3C817599
This time Becky bought some oatmeal and we had lunch in the Anglesey Abbey cafe
before heading back to Horningsea. Part of our route on the way back was the
old Cambridge-Mildenhall railway, although it was closed long enough ago that
there were barely any signs of its former railway use, except for what looked
like one old level crossing gatepost. The whole round trip was just over six
miles, and we got back to Horningsea just as it was beginning to get dim. A
good afternoon's walking.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Jan 09 12:25:52 2006]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: We will stickle it, every little bit of it
I took my ailing computer back to World of Computers this morning, and while I
waited they identified the problem as a broken power switch and fixed it by
replacing the switch. The computer is therefore now sitting in my office and
with luck it'll be home and working again soon.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Jan 12 16:01:49 2006]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: Recovering the satellites
On LiveJournal, this feed is accessible under the username stephdiary, and
because it's a feed, when you referenced the username a little icon of a
satellite dish was prepended. It was rather cute, and I'd grown attached to
it. (http://www.greenend.org.uk/owen/gif/syndicated.gif). Today LiveJournal
changed this cute little dishie with a small orange blob with round corners:
http://stat.livejournal.com/img/syndicated.gif
This little orange blob is the icon that Firefox and Microsoft have settled for
RSS feeds in their browser, and it's great that they've agreed on it. It's
also great that websites have started displaying this icon as a thing to click
on to get the RSS version of whatever you're reading. But in the context of
running text in LJ it _doesn't_ give you the RSS so it's not useful for that
reason, and the vivid orange colour makes it stick out like a sore thumb.
I want my satellite dish back.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Jan 14 18:20:11 2006]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: Films about ghosts
Bmovie time again last night, and with it being 80s night as well, you'd have
thought I'd enjoy it. But I didn't, and I don't really know why. I felt
introspective and disconnected, and even the occasional forays on the
dancefloor didn't work their usual magic. I slunk off for the last train,
feeling grumpy.
Subject: Going loco
Still feeling somewhat solitary today, I did something I've not done properly
for a while and went out on the railway. Stopping at Elsenham, which had many
bouquets in memory of the recent sad events there, I then made my way onwards
south down the Liverpool Street line to Cheshunt, changing there for Hertford
East. Through town to Hertford East, and then back to Cambridge via Stevenage.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Jan 17 18:49:27 2006]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: Sniffle
I've been off work today with a cold that crept up on me last night. This is
annoying because it means I won't be able to go to the Calling tonight. That
in itself wouldn't bother me so much, except that I didn't have a particularly
good time at Bmovie on Friday and I had been hoping that the Calling would make
up for it. Ah well.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Jan 19 12:32:02 2006]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: I will try not to breathe
I was off work yesterday too, as the cold had turned its attention from my nose
to my chest and I was alternately coughing and wondering what the strange
whistling sounds were when I breathed. When I lay down to go to bed it got
rather worse and I started to be a bit concerned at the effort I had to put
into getting air into my lungs. So I frobbed NHS Direct's web page, which
(rather alarmingly) told me to dial 999. I decided that was an overreaction
and phoned NHS Direct instead.
NHS Direct is a marvellous invention. You can call it if you're concerned
about your health but don't really think you're sufficiently bad to need an
ambulance. I called them, they called me back, they were concerned enough at
the description of my symptoms to refer me to Camdoc, who were confused enough
to refer me to one of their doctors, who was unconcerned enough to tell me to
go to bed sitting up. So I did that, and had an uncomfortable night's sleep.
This morning I went to see a doctor, and after prodding me with a stethoscope
he told me that my symptoms were those of an asthma episode. He told me to go
and get a prescription from the pharmacy for an inhaler and to come back. Once
I did, a few puffs on the oddly musical device seemed to ease my chest quite a
bit. So here's to being able to breathe more easily again.
But still, asthma eh? Apparently it often goes with eczema and who knows
whether it'll be something that'll recur or whether it's just something that's
come with this particular cold that I'll never see again...
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Jan 27 10:08:45 2006]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: Creep show
Last night I went with Ben, Clare, Ian, Gareth, and Verity to the Arts Theatre
to see `The Creeper' with Ian Richardson. It was really very excellent,
combining wit and an almost `Twin Peaks'-esque bizarreness with a growing
creepy menace.
I've not written much here recently, which would be news if I had anything
interesting to report. However, since I don't have much to say, it's no great
loss. I'm still coughing from time to time, I'm bored at work, and I got as
far as Medusa in Nethack the other day only to be turned to stone.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Jan 29 14:49:16 2006]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: You're surprised and then you wake
After a brief visit to the Gallery for dinner and a game of Puerto Rico, I
headed to Relativity last night for the Wake. The Jomsborg wake for the old
year is a strange thing that reminds me more of the passage of the years than
does the real New Year on 1st January, somehow, so it's a good job this year
started well. Good things included: conversations with Naath; an unexpected
party-dressed Becky; an SFB-derivative game being played by David, Martin, and
Jon; grabbing a few hours' sleep on Clare's bed...
(This is where my brain gets very confused. I dreamed of the Wake, you see, so
my memories are a strange melange of dreams and reality. Discarding the
obviously barking parts of the dream I'm left with impressions of people having
been there even though they weren't, and other people doing and saying things
they didn't do or say. It's a bit like hazy happy memories of a drunken
evening without the bother of having to get that drunk.)
...and being half-asleep in the kitchen afterwards before being pointed at the
coffee pot; worrying that the Reeve had disappeared so close to dawn and then
being relieved when he turned up; going to Castle Mound in the gloriously crisp
frosty pre-dawn; being joined by Kate, Nigel, and Dave the Dog for the ceremony
where we wound the sun up; holding a mushroom representing the moon; being
watched by bemused sightseers as we processed around the mount; a glorious
dawn.
I cycled home through the near-deserted streets, but stopped by the Cam to
throw stones onto its frozen surface and laugh at the little squeaky skittery
sounds they made on the ice. Life is good :-).
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Jan 30 14:24:12 2006]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: That's what keeps me down
Life may be good, but work isn't. I sit at my desk typing in details from one
set of files into another file, barely using my brain let alone my skills. I'm
doing it slowly because it's so unbelievably tedious and I need a break every
ten minutes to avoid exploding. I'm doing it badly because where any kind of
judgement is called for it's not in my field of expertise and I have just to
guess. A lot of the time, though, I'm just not doing it at all. There's only
so much work ethic I can muster for data entry.
I'm supposed to be a system administrator / programmer, but there's too often a
greater need for a data entry monkey so I end up doing that instead. I fear my
skills may be rotting.
I've often felt this way about my job in the past, but I've usually not done
anything because I've found myself with more interesting things to do a week or
so later. Discussions I've been overhearing recently suggest, though, that the
problem is going to get worse rather than better.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Feb 01 09:42:53 2006]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: Calling
I went to the Calling last night, having missed it last time due to my cold.
It was great fun, not so much because of bouncing to the music (which was
merely so-so) but because there seemed to be quite so many people there I knew,
and I talked to some of the people I knew but hadn't spoken to in a while.
Hurrah for all that, then.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Feb 02 10:01:07 2006]--
From: (S) and there's reason to believe (steph)
Subject: A gerund `cuts' a gerundive
It occurred to me recently that I can only think of two English names that are
Latin gerundives: Amanda (she who should be loved) and Miranda (she who should
be admired). Can you think of any more?
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Feb 02 23:55:55 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Close your eyes
The night at the pub seemed longer than usual this evening. Not that there
wasn't good company, but it was busy and loud with the extra beer festival
crowd until nearly closing time, which was tiring. Add to that a pensive mood
and I'm definitely ready for a good night's sleep in a warm bed.
(The new nameline, by the way, is from an Editors song. `People are fragile
things,' it says. `Be careful what you put them through.' But on the other
hand, `it breaks if you don't try.')
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Feb 05 14:23:35 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Agog
On Saturday afternoon I cycled over to Becky's to join her, Richard, Helen,
Alison, Tom, and Ganesh for a short stroll around the Gog Magog Downs south of
Cambridge. Apart from a visit to Wandlebury last year, it's not an area I've
seen much of, so I was amused at the odd change of elevation that apparently
they call a `hill'.
We walked for about an hour or so, nattering about this and that, before making
our way back to the cars and then back (via Tesco's) to Becky's flat. The rest
of the day (until about 2am, oops :-) ) was given over to Xena. Way back when,
I first encountered Xena in a certain flat in Oxford. Plus ca change... Six
seasons later, the show is having great fun playing with as many mix-and-match
mythologies as it can lay its hands on. (This is familiar to me from `Stargate
SG-1', `Doctor Who', and any number of other places in SF and Fantasy. The
wealth of stories from myth and their very malleability through retelling and
misremembering makes them ideal for this sort of thing.) And of course
there were the usual attractions of Xena, accompanied by frequent squeeings of
`cuute lesbians!' from Helen :-)
So, yes, a good day. Thanks to Becky for organising and hosting!
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Feb 08 12:29:23 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Part and Parcel
Woo! Today I received a big pile of all the DVDs in the world ever! OK, that
may not be literally true, but I do have lots more `Doctor Who' now. Rather
oddly, each DVD has been packaged and sent in its own jiffy bag rather than the
whole lot being bundled together in one box. I'm not complaining, but it does
mean my coworker handed me a 7" pile of packages this morning.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Feb 10 11:33:19 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: XII - The Hanged Man
I have a hangover. This is rare -- I'm lucky and smug like that -- but it
still seems to happen occasionally. I can't think of any good reason why it's
happened today though; I didn't drink more than usual or eat less than usual so
it must just be One of Those Things. Fortunately coffee and paracetamol have
put paid to most of the symptoms.
Apologies to anyone who expected this entry to be about the Tarot.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Feb 12 12:53:53 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Waiting for the telephone to tell me I'm alive
...or to tell me _it's_ alive. Since some time yesterday morning, my NTL
telephone line has been dead, so today I called them on my mobile phone to get
it fixed. After performing some tests they decided that they would have to
send an engineer out. So far, so promising. Then, though, the only
appointment they can offer me is between 12pm and 6pm on Wednesday afternoon.
Fine, I think, I'll ask them to phone me a little in advance of the engineer's
arrival so that I can cycle home from work.
Except they flat-out refuse to do that. The Welsh gentleman on the faults line
(and it is _distressingly_ hard to get upset with a calm soft Welsh voice)
explained that there was a fee of L10 I would have to pay if the engineer
turned up and I wasn't in, and NTL couldn't accept liability for that fee if
the engineer failed to phone me in advance. Neither would they let me
explicitly accept liability for the tenner in that situation, even though I'd
much rather risk paying a tenner (or a few tenners, if we have to try several
times) than the rather greater cost of half a day off work.
So I'm grumpy with NTL, and will be writing to them to suggest that they adopt
a more sensible policy. In the meantime I'm going to have to work out how to
get the TiVo to do its daily call over the network rather than over the phone;
this is something I should have done ages ago, but never got around to, so I
suppose I have NTL to thank for something, albeit in an indirect and rather
frustrating way.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Feb 13 14:00:56 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Of Cards and Catholics
The origins of St. Valentine's Day are obscure. If the saint himself existed,
he was probably beheaded, though depending on who you believe this was for one
of any number of reasons: helping persecuted Christians, defying the Emperor,
refusing to give up Christianity, illicitly marrying couples... Whatever, he
was martyrworthy enough for Pope Gelasius to give him February 14th as his day.
Sadly, in 1969 the Vatican decided that Valentine's story was sufficiently
unclear and took his day away again, since with only 365 days in the year
it's hard enough to find room even for all the well-attested godly goodlies.
He's still known as the patron saint of lovers. Rather less well known are his
patronages of bee-keeping, epilepsy, fainting, and the plague.
Other origins are alleged for the date, of course. One English tradition has
it that it was in mid-February that birds began to pair up. Or maybe you
prefer the Lupercalian lottery where young men drew lots for the company of
available young maidens... Since all this comes from the web, all, some or
none of it may be true, but that scarcely matters for if the day has been bound
up in folk history for centuries then the web is only continuing a fine
tradition.
These days you would probably have to add card companies to the list of those
enjoying Valentine's patronage. I don't mind that much, though I probably
won't be sending any cards myself because I am both lazy and cowardly. I am of
course happy to _receive_ cards ;-).
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Feb 15 15:47:58 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Phoney
NTL fixed my phone this afternoon. I know this because they rang me on it to
tell me that they'd fixed it.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Feb 15 23:22:23 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: This time
I'm fairly happy where I am emotionally right now. For the most part
I'm content, with lots of friends, some vague interest, and a good deal more
self-sufficiency than I've seen in myself for a while. It may pass, of
course, especially since come March I'll be trying to reduce my dose of
anti-depressants again, but for the moment I'm OK. No big news, no big
changes, no alarms and no surprises.
Two of the three frogs that live on my monitor have fallen off.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Feb 20 11:39:26 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: May I quote you on that?
I've been hacking on some Fortran code at work recently. It's kind of pleasing
that starting from no knowledge at all of the language I was able to hack on it
without too much difficulty, and it's been fun because I've had a chance to use
my brain. (Sometimes I think my brain is a severely underused resource.)
Anyway, one problem with the old code was its use of a construction that isn't
standard in Fortran 77 and thus not supported by g77, GNU's Fortran compiler.
Working around this construction led me to write the following code:
WRITE(MYFMT,FMT='(''(I'',I1,'')'''''''''''''''''')') DIGITS
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Feb 21 17:09:12 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: The middle distance
Lots of good friends, lots of good company, and that's a good thing. But --
and this is no reflection on anybody but me -- sometimes I get times where what
I want is to be alone. I find myself staring into the middle distance in
company, losing perspective and dwelling on things. Which is by way of saying
sorry if I'm not the utter sparkling social centre of everything right now, and
I'm sure I'll be better once I've gone exploring the bleak middle of nowhere
(possibly aka Nottinghamshire) on Saturday.
One of my worries before I took up cycling was that I wouldn't have enough time
to process all my Stuff as I used to do when I walked everywhere and
regularly had opportunities to spend forty-five minutes thinking. I wonder
whether that's what's happened here?
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Feb 27 12:18:00 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: The far distance
The weekend came, which is just as well. By Friday, for Clare's pancakey
birthday party, I was shattered and I left before ten. On Saturday I hauled
myself to Nottingham and collected a few stations (Rolleston, Fiskerton, and
Bleasby) between there and Newark. I had a complicated plan that would have
got me all but one of the stations on that stretch of line, but the timings for
some of the walks were too optimistic and I ended up arriving at Thurgarton at
a run and only just caught the train thanks to a generous guard. Tiredness at
that and the fact that the weather was getting nastier persuaded me to call it
a day and head back to Cambridge. I'm pleasantly surprised at how far I can
keep up a run, even if my thighs are still aching now; it must be all the
vigorous exercise swimming and cycling are giving me.
Although one of the reasons I wanted to get out and about was to think, I don't
know whether I got that much of that done. What I did enjoy was the space and
the loneliness of the countryside, and the weird sensation of walking down the
same path in the same direction twice in one day. There was also an open foot
crossing over the railway, which provided a little thrill.
The early end to the day meant I was back in Cambridge in time to take Simon's
lift to Duxford for Richard and Louise's first wedding anniversary party.
Paper anniversary, so a paper theme for the party, and there were dodecahedral
pandas and bats, rhombic dodecahedral calendars, lots of paper aeroplanes, and
tons of non-paper food. Yum. Also lots of lovely people I've not seen in a
while: as well as the usual suspects we were joined by Vicky S, Eleanor C, Liz,
and a number of other people I didn't know. A good party, for which thanks and
congratulations must go to Richard and Louise!
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Mar 02 23:41:54 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Errors and omissions
It may be a mistake to be open here, but it may also be a mistake to avoid
mentioning anything here. Feeling rather too down to decide between the two
courses, I opt to be cryptic and indecipherable. That's at least an accurate
reflection of my emotions, after all.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Mar 05 14:23:58 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Cold and warm
Saturday was a busy day. First I cycled into town and went to Open Air to buy
some decent walking boots. It's always comforting to buy from a shop where
they know what they're talking about and what the differences between various
things are, and this was definitely true buying boots from their footwear shop
on Green Street. They guided me through a few pairs until I found one that
wasn't too narrow or too rigid.
The rest of the day was spent with Ben, Gareth, and Verity on a walk from
Littleport to Ely. It was short (only about 6 miles) and straightforward
(basically following the river) but it was nice to stretch my legs and put my
new boots to a gentle test. The wind was cold, but the sun provided warmth
when it was out, and that all made for a pleasant afternoon out. Back in
Cambridge from Ely, we adjourned to the Gallery for tea and sausages. Also, in
response to a comment I made about the leap from logic gates to a full
computer, Ben designed a processor on paper and pretty much convinced me that
computers aren't in fact magic :-).
The evening was Mary's flatwarming party, which was an opportunity to catch up
with lots of people: Mary herself (whom curly hair really suits!), James, Liz,
Laura, Jon, Kathryn, not to mention the friends I see more regularly. I drank
more than usual but merely got happy-tipsy-drunk rather than maudlin-in-corner-
drunk so had a great time. I hope Mary enjoys her new flat as much as she
seemed to be enjoying its warming last night!
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Mar 10 18:15:50 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: With this I will not contend
I thought I'd been cunning last week by taking Friday off and thus averting a
major doomy cold. Sadly, it was not to be, for yesterday afternoon I was
feeling unpleasant and useless. I went home, slept, and felt fine a couple of
hours later so went to the pub. This morning, and most of today, I've felt
unpleasant, so I've not been at work and I won't be going to B-Movie tonight
:-(. That'll be the first one (apart from the New Year's Eve one) I've missed
since I started going, I think.
I wish I had an immune system that was either less active when colds came its
way, or quieter at doing its stuff to get rid of them. I seem to be much more
prone to minor ailments than anyone else I know.
Fingers crossed now that I'm OK for partying tomorrow...
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Mar 11 23:55:42 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Distant folly
It turned out that I was OK, both for the party and for the walk earlier in the
day. I joined Becky and Tom for a stroll around Wimpole Hall, curtailed a bit
due to sudden horizontal hail and a desire to get back to the shop before it
shut to buy fudge. We caught a glimpse of the folly behind the trees.
Later, Becky's 5-years-in-Cambridge party gradually grew in her flat, with
lots of nibbles and puddingy goodness provided by Becky's creme brulee -- my
penchant for fancy accents is thwarted by this diary's resolute 7-bit ASCII
nature -- and Alison's baked Alaska. Episodes of Xena and X-Flies took us to
party-time proper, mbm wowed us with flashy juggling balls, rjk took photos. A
fun little gathering that made me smile, and hopefully others too. I left
early, tired and perhaps a little melancholy, but for reasons unconnected with
the party. Just one of those things where you're having fun and you want to
get out while the mental going's still good.
I come back to this as part of a spam, composed of fragments of poetry:
Over this pain of mine,
Children, I come back today.
His vest has been left in the hall
Amid a transparent clear belt of ether yet left in the east,
If you'll just tell me so.
Nonsense as a whole, but each of the fragments (all googlable if you want the
sources) brings its own flavour to the pudding.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Mar 17 17:52:51 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Fares fair?
If I want to get from Cambridge to Stamford at a non-peak time, it'll cost me
L14.30, according to National Rail Enquiries. However, I can buy a L4.10
ticket from Cambridge to Ely and a L9.70 ticket from Ely to Stamford, and
legitimately travel on exactly the same train for only L13.80. How is this so?
The answer lies in the details of the privatised railway's fares system.
One of the first things that had to be ensured when privatising the railways
was that they would continue to work as a network: that from any point on the
railway system you could still buy a ticket to anywhere else on the network and
use any train company's trains. Rules to this effect are written into the
contracts of every Train Operating Company. Thus, for every journey
(or `flow' in the jargon) between any two stations, a fare needs to be set, and
it is set by whichever train operator is the `lead operator' for that flow:
usually this will be the operator with the greatest commercial interest in that
flow.
So, with our example above, fares between Cambridge and Stamford are set by
Central Trains, as are fares between Ely and Stamford, but fares between
Cambridge and Ely are set by someone else, either WAGN or One. For whatever
reason, they price the journey to Ely differently.
There are other anomalies in the fares system, too: Standard and Saver returns
and weekly season tickets are regulated, as are commuter fares around London,
Cardiff, and Edinburgh; some Passenger Transport Executives set or regulate
fares; or perhaps train operators are just trying to encourage train use for
particular journeys. The Department for Transport isn't overly concerned about
this, saying `Such anomalies do not contravene fares regulation, and passengers
are entitled to benefit from them, provided that they can legitimately use that
combination of tickets for the journey they are making under the terms of the
National Rail Conditions of Carriage.'
So, if you can be bothered to find the cheaper fares and buy the combinations
of tickets, you can. Even if it may be, as the DfT document says in closing,
`an error inherited from British Rail'.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Mar 19 00:25:36 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: The Great Escape (from Thetford)
I've often commented in the past that I've tended to have good experiences with
the railway. Certainly, there've been late or cancelled trains, but it's so
far been not much more than a minor nuisance. Today, after a good start, I had
the `how it all went wrong' experience.
I decided to take the 15:52 Central service back from Norwich, and then take a
train south from Ely to Cambridge, so I settled back in my seat and dozed in
the way I enjoy doing on train journeys. A little way after Thetford, the
train slowed down very rapidly -- it wasn't a jolt, but it was definitely a
sudden deceleration -- and came to a halt in Thetford forest. Nothing
particularly unusual, I thought, and we'd soon be on our way. However, the
driver (or perhaps the guard?) then came on the intercom to say that the train
had struck an object and that he apologised for the delay.
After fifteen minutes or so stationary we got another announcement: that what
we had hit had damaged the air supply. It took me a little while to work out
what this meant, namely that the pipes carrying the air that powers the brakes,
doors, loo flush, etc. had been ruptured and that this had caused the brakes to
apply. I then had to explain this to a few fellow passengers, who didn't
understand the comment about air and were wondering whether they should stop
talking to conserve oxygen.
The second announcement was the last proper information we had from anyone.
After that, all we got were Chinese whisper messages passed via mobile phones
and employees of various bits of the railway in their passenger-flak-attracting
orange hi-vis vests. `The train hit a pheasant,' we were assured by one guy, I
think a Central Trains guard. He couldn't say more, but started handing out
compensation forms. By this point we'd been stationary for about an hour, and
word came that another train would come from Thetford `in about five minutes'
and push our train to Ely, where those wanting to go further -- the service
was for Sheffield -- could change for the train behind and carry on their
journey. This would be the first of a number of false dawns.
Time passed, it got dark, and a car arrived in the field next to us. A chap
got out, and some time later was walking through our train in hi-vis. Our
train had hit a cow, he told us, and since our train wasn't going anywhere in a
hurry, we might have to be put on a different train. At some point in all
this, another Central Trains employee fiddled with the controls in various
parts of the train to see if he could get the brakes working again. He was
asked why we hadn't gone anywhere yet and why nobody had told us anything; he
answered that Central Trains and Network Rail were arguing about what to do
about the situation and while this was happening nothing could be done by
anyone.
While we waited a God botherer tried to persuade us to come to Jesus. I didn't
begrudge him a brief try, but I quickly came to loathe him as much as some of
my fellow passengers had come to hate the "little orange men".
Two or three hours in, the message was that we would be taken off the train by
ladder, and we'd walk along the track to another train behind us, which would
then take us back to Thetford, where replacement bus transport was being laid
on. It took longer than expected for anything to happen, but after a while we
were herded to an exit, and guided down a ladder onto the ballast next to the
train. I suspect they should have had some better light available; I only
avoided tripping or falling because I was careful and using my bike light to
guide me. It took a while for us all to get into the other train, but we were
eventually there, and after another long delay we began to move (to applause)
back towards Thetford.
We got there, got out of the train, and milled confusedly on the cold station
platform. Of course the waiting rooms were locked and couldn't be opened, so
it just had to be hoped that we didn't die of cold. At this point the railway
staff were evidently almost as frustrated as the passengers; they'd been told
there'd be coaches and taxis but there were none, they didn't know what was
happening or who was supposed to be arranging it, and could only offer us a
choice: stay in the warm train and go back to Norwich, or wait on the cold
platform for a train going towards Ely that would be coming `in about 25
minutes'. 25 minutes became more like 45, people got colder, until eventually
a train pulled up. It was packed with drunken football supporters. It was
also, apparently, not going anywhere. We stood in it, grateful at least for
the warmth, while it stood uselessly at Thetford station. From the information
passengers on this train had been given, our original train had now definitely
hit either a human or a deer.
A bit longer, and we were on our way, although we went in the opposite
direction to the one we'd been told to expect; we'd been told we'd cross to the
other line first by travelling a bit towards Norwich and then changing
direction, but we headed straight for Ely. Perhaps, since the journey was
uneventful after that, they had cleared the object / pheasant / cow / deer /
human (and, I suppose, our original train) from the line. We made it to Ely at
21:30, and I got to Cambridge at about 21:54. Who knew that it could take six
hours to get from Norwich to Cambridge?
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Mar 21 12:21:35 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Pizza and everything after
My former housemate (and now pub magnate) Steve was visiting Cambridge to
celebrate his birthday yesterday, so after the usual Monday pizza, people
decamped to the Carlton to celebrate. There was unexpected jazz in the lounge
bar, so we went over to the other half of the pub and I had a quick frame of
pool with Clare while we waited for more people to arrive. Later, we had a
nice little gaggle of us. It was good to catch up with people, particularly
Steve and Karen, neither of whom I see often.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Mar 23 10:48:09 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Apology Central
I got a letter from Central Trains yesterday, following the compensation form I
filled in on the train on Saturday. Apart from explaining what happened and
why it took so long for them to do anything, Central are refunding the whole
cost of my ticket and offering me a free journey anywhere on their network!
Woo! I shall have to work out where best to go from the point of view of
station collecting...
I'll still write my letter suggesting that things could have been done better:
one person should have given us regular announcements over the PA system, and
there should have been the ability to open Thetford station waiting room having
dumped a hundred people there in the cold.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Mar 29 11:43:52 2006]--
From: (S) you should know by now (steph)
Subject: Playing catch-up
Not written here for a little while, which is usually the sign of one of two
things: either I'm too unhappy and stressed to talk about stuff in public, or
my life is full of nice things I've not found time to mention. For the most
part, it's the latter.
Saturday saw a walk with Becky, Ganesh, Richard, and Susan around Wimpole Hall,
following a longer route than the walk there a couple of weeks earlier with Tom
and Becky (which we curtailed for reasons of snow and fudge). After retiring
to the pub for snoozy drinks and chips, Alison, Becky, and I went back to
Becky's flat to watch the fourth Harry Potter film. It makes a lot more sense
watching it after having read the book than it did when I first saw it in the
cinema.
Sunday was lethargic. Lunch at the Gallery was a little stressful in the
preparation, but roast beef and Yorkshire puds were well worth it. I tried to
carve the meat with some limited success, though I suspect I made a tactical
error in cutting the string that bound it together.
Monday was pizza, and post-pizza, in the evening. Tuesday might have been the
Calling, but I didn't feel like it and a plan emerged to watch DVDs at Becky's.
Mobbsy provided us with nice cheesy pasta and wine, and we settled down to
watch Episode III which I'd not seen before. It's good fun, and gets everyone
into their places for Episode IV: Yoda to Dagobah, Obi-Wan and Luke to
Tatooine, Leia with Bail Organa, Anakin in the black mask. (And, yay, Bail
Organa is Jimmy Smits, aka Matt Santos from `The West Wing'...) Apart from
some awful dialogue which can be put down to letting George Lucas anywhere near
a script, my main complaint is that at the end, Padme explicitly names her
second child `Leia'; I suppose it's a question of what order you expect the
audience to watch the films in.
At work, I've been doing lots of fiddling with awkward hardware and a new huge
colour laser printer has arrived. I confess it's larger than I expected when I
ordered it, but it looks like it'll do the job we want it to.
Recently, I have been reading:
Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, by J.K. Rowling
Flaubert's Parrot, by Julian Barnes
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Apr 03 23:36:09 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: April Foolish
Saturday was James and Eleanor's 30th birthday party, at an old mission hall on
the Isle of Dogs, so I made my way there via a number of other places in
London, collecting stations as I went. I stopped off at Waterloo to browse the
Ian Allan bookshop in Lower Marsh, and found a large part of the area fenced
off and occupied by a large crane. I later found out why, as you can see at
http://www.greenend.org.uk/owen/interests/rail/2006/04/ ; the Waterloo and City
line of the London Underground has no access to the rest of the rail network,
so the only way to get trains on and off the line is by winching them through a
small hole near Waterloo station. (Also at the above URL is a nice
self-portrait taken at Ilford.)
I like these meanderings through the transport system in part for the time they
give me to myself. Time which is admittedly also spent in company, but in a
passive neutral company which does not expect or demand. The journey to
Mudchute took me by tube to the very space-age Canary Wharf station, and its
twin elevated DLR stations either side of the water. Then south to Mudchute
and by foot to `The Place', aforementioned old mission hall.
I don't know whether a day spent alone in thought was the best preparation for
the party. Although I started off well, chatting to people I did and didn't
know with surprising ease, I gradually tailed off, finding it harder as the
evening went on to find things to say to people. A pity, since there were
friends I'd not seen for a while who I didn't properly catch up with, and
other friends (at a further remove) I would have liked to talk to more than
just `hello'. Perhaps I was tired, perhaps I am sometimes introverted, and
perhaps it doesn't help that I'm very poor at making conversation against a
noisy background. All of which said, there were still fun bits, and I'm
definitely glad I went.
New nameline, by the way. Becky linked to a Spanish story on the BBC about
potatoes in South America. A little automatic translation and it's a story
about Popes.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Apr 04 09:48:44 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Location Location Erratum
Apparently The Place was The Space.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Apr 08 22:12:43 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: All in the mind
I don't know why my mood sank earlier today, after my parents had left. A
depressing episode of `The West Wing', cutting down on antidepressants by
missing out Friday's dose, tiredness, assorted emotional flotsam and jetsam...
It could have been any of these that made me nearly-teary over dinner and not
quite engaging properly with anything or anyone at Jack's small party.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Apr 10 15:33:24 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Little lost (tape) robot
I've been playing with a number of tape robot machines at work recently. You
know the things, boxes where a robot arm selects tapes from a rack and puts
them into the drive to be read. Unfortunately, of the three I've been
wrestling:
* one has a working tape drive but will not move its robot arm
* one has a broken robot arm but a fully functional tape drive
* one will not talk to the SCSI bus at all.
After a couple of the less working drives swallowed tapes it became clear I
would need some Torx bits to take them apart to retrieve tapes, so on Saturday
I bought a set of Torx keys (and some Torx bits for my screwdriver). Today I
have managed to retrieve the tapes, give the working tape drive to the working
robot, and use rather more Torx keys than I expected I would ever have to.
Sadly the untalkative robot remains untalkative, which is sad since as far as I
can tell both its arm and its tape drive are fine.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Apr 11 00:11:50 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Unspeakable tedium and *yawn*
Like many other people, I've been playing a fair bit of NetHack recently. I'm
currently in the middle of my best ever game, having killed Medusa and a
smattering of demons. But where my friends seem to find it exciting and
interesting, I've started to find it a tedious slog where continuing is more of
a chore than a pleasure. The stage of the game I'm in is composed of largely
undifferentiated mazes with an assortment of monsters who can't really do me
any significant harm, and I get the feeling the idea of it is to bore you into
making a stupid mistake, of which I have already made several. I've been kept
going so far by variety in the levels and glimpses of the next part of the
game but right now the only thing stopping me from quitting is a stubborn sense
that I owe it to myself to carry on and to play as well as I can. But it's not
fun. This kind of pressure is one of the reasons I don't play bridge, except
there it's a responsibility to another player; here it's just twisted games
inside my twisted little mind.
(The possibility should not be discounted that your narrator may be a bit
depressed.)
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Apr 18 18:31:48 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Tensions and Conventions
Over the Easter weekend was this year's Eastercon, Concussion, in the Crowne
Plaza hotel in Glasgow. It was a very good convention with an exceptionally
good programme and I had a fun few days; many thanks to Farah, Simon, Bridget,
and everyone else involved in organising it. It did the usual thing
conventions do to me: it made me want both to read and to write more SF. I am,
of course, less good at getting around to the latter than I am to the former.
Coming back today has been a long day. I got on Thursday a letter inviting me
to an interview at 2:30pm today, and wasn't able to get in touch with the
relevant person to say `wah, no, I shall be on a train'. The bank holiday came
and went, and I rang first thing today to organise it for a different time. As
was the way of these things, though, the interview panel couldn't gather on any
other day, so I ended up going straight from Glasgow Central to a job
interview, pausing at Peterborough to change into a halfway respectable shirt
in the toilets. Remarkably for someone who should be zonked I thought the
interview went rather well. Perhaps it was the relaxing effect of an extended
lunch in the restaurant car.
Now I have post-con come-down. Tiredness, a slight headache, the need to
unpack and catch up with Cambridge once more... It is just as well that I have
the day off tomorrow.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Apr 19 00:05:22 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Going up
There is only one entry in the nethack high score table on my laptop. It reads
as follows:
No Points Name Hp [max]
1 4103970 Steph-Val-Dwa-Fem-Law ascended to demigoddess-hood. 158 [201]
'Nuff said.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Apr 24 23:53:38 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: patior, pati, passus sum
The Latin verb `patior' is the source for the word `patience', and also for the
word `passive'. It amuses me to note that it means `I suffer'; what with one
thing and another my life currently requires a lot of patience, and in many
arenas provides little time or opportunity to be anything but passive. Thank
goodness etymology is a poor guide to emotion.
Apart from all that, life's going OK. I'm just about getting over the
post-convention lurg (only a mild thing which hasn't kept me from work but has
left me tired a lot of the time), and at both work and at home I've been kept
busy writing DVDs of various sorts. There's been snooker to watch too.
(Hah. For someone who complains about not having enough time to do interesting
things and see lovely people, I realise that I do spend an awful lot of my life
faffing.)
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Apr 27 00:03:07 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Mope
I'm feeling a bit low, as I have been for a few days. A bit lonely, a bit
uncertain about the future, and probably a bit mild-lurged. (Waily wail, sob
sob, as someone might put it.) Throw depression in the mix with another
attempt to lower my dose and it's really just mucked-up brain chemicals. Bah.
Still, sleep now and the pub tomorrow night are things to look forward to.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue May 02 01:19:12 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Finality
I've spent much of this Bank Holiday weekend watching the final of the World
Snooker Championship, and it's just finished, making it the latest finish for a
world final ever. The match, which started on Sunday with some of the most
tedious snooker I've seen, gradually cranked up the pace, taking us through
lead-building to a dead cert for one of the players at the start of Monday
evening's session. But then there came the tales of comeback, of despair, of
tenacity, renewed hope, and final victory that made it a gripping evening that
kept me watching until the end. If it wasn't the respotted-black squeaker of
1985, it was no less exciting a conclusion.
We observe events as they happen, unconnected threads of happenstance and human
effort, but always our minds are weaving out of them a narrative, a story that
ties them all together. Tonight's match was a damned good story.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed May 03 00:01:19 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Fantastic
Although I didn't make it because the snooker went on so late, last night's
post-pizza rang me to invite me round. In the background were squeeing noises
allegedly from my `fan club'. I didn't know I had one...
(If you were to speculate that this diary entry might be fishing for
compliments, you would of course be absolutely right.)
---------------------------------------------------[Fri May 05 12:17:29 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Stamp collecting
This morning I handed in my letter of resignation to my boss. It would have
been dramatic to storm in, thump the table, and spill his tea, but I decided
against it, not least because I don't have a cool open-topped car. I'm going
to a job as a Computer Officer in a research group at the Cavendish Laboratory,
which should involve a nice mix of Unix and Windows system administration and
user support.
I'm looking forward to it, but I'm also rather sad. For all that my work here
has had its ups and downs, it'll be a pity to leave in the lurch some nice
people I've worked for and with. Still, I've left my mark here and there and
although I've by no means done all the things I wanted to do I like to think
I've made a difference. Let's hope I can do the same in the new job.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun May 07 15:09:07 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Wedding
Yesterday was Sally and Matthew's wedding. It was, as you might expect,
lovely, and both of them looked incredibly happy. The service in Selwyn
College chapel was marvellous, lent extra magic by the choir there, and
although it was definitely more high-churchy than most that didn't bother me.
(The only thing that did surprise me is just how gruesome the audience script
is at the point of the bread-breaking: `Grant us, therefore, gracious Lord, so
to eat the flesh of your dear Son Jesus Christ and to drink his blood.' I
mean, I know the whole communion thing is deeply weird but I've not seen
it spelt out in the audience script before.) Bubbles afterwards in Selwyn
court, and champagne bubbles at the reception, where I mingled, greeted, and
congratulated. Happy times; weddings make me smile, and give my inner hopeless
romantic a brief chance to escape through my hard outer shell of curmudgeonly
cynicism.
When those that could fit went up to the meal, I joined a few people for a
dinner at the Hot Pot, before heading (in the now pouring rain) to the
Guildhall for the ceilidh. I had a couple of dances with Becky and Alison, and
a more complicated one where you end up on the other side of the room. It was
all happy and shiny until there was a big complicated dance which I didn't
really follow. I got more and more confused, panicked a little, but couldn't
escape because it would break everything; sorry to Alison for being crap and
panicky. I was jittery for a few minutes afterwards, but I fairly quickly
recovered enough to chat with various people until the end of the evening just
after midnight.
Subject: Sunday
I was going to join Becky on a walk this afternoon, but I'm feeling a bit too
grotty (headache / hangover / tiredness / who knows) so I opted for slumping on
the sofa in front of the F1 instead. A pity, but there'll be other walks...
---------------------------------------------------[Tue May 09 22:55:46 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Persistence of vision
As well as this diary, I keep a private diary. It goes into long rambling
detail about emotional stuff as reflected in the trivia of everyday life. It
also explains cryptic references I make here, after I read through my diary
archives and realised I had absolutely no idea what large parts of it were
about.
Anyway, from time to time I read back this diary and I'm usually amused at how
much circumstances have changed over the course of a month or two. Could I
ever have been _that_ hung up over such-and-such, or _that_ annoyed by
such-and-such a trivial thing? Apparently so, `haha', I laugh and move on.
Except that this time, I'm looking back about nine months and I'm largely
thinking and feeling much the same things now as I was then. (I'm
oversimplifying, of course; there was wibbly stuff on the way.)
Does this mean:
1) I'm getting older and time is passing faster, and where did the last few
months go anyway?
2) I'm maturing and becoming less of an emotional mayfly/goldfish?
3) I'm becoming stuck in a rut?
Answers on a postcard.
(No, introspection did not kill your parents, insensitive clod though I may
well be.)
---------------------------------------------------[Fri May 12 01:07:51 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Bounce
Yes, that was a _good_ evening. Happy now.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat May 13 14:48:15 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: This is where we came in
Bouncy evening at BMovie, having met up with Clare and Helen at the station and
nattered and snoozed on the train. It was less hot than I'd feared during the
day, and I danced lots. I also ended up talking to someone who works for
Schlumberger; who could have predicted that I'd find myself talking about well
logs at the Water Rats? Home, snoozily, on the last train, and then to bed.
Late this morning, I hauled myself into town and bought a DJ, with lots of help
and advice from the nice Scottish lady at Moss Bros. So that's me sorted for
the ball next month.
Back at home now, with a slight headache and a bit of mopiness. Not because of
anything external -- life is going really well at the moment, after all -- but
just chemical sloshings. I shall find ways to keep myself occupied so I don't
think too much and turn happiness into argh no doom doom despair turnip
cheesecake.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu May 18 11:19:02 2006]--
From: (S) 280 varieties of the Pope (steph)
Subject: Devonian
As most of you already know, I'm going down to Devon with Ben on Sunday for a
week of station collecting and other assorted exploration. I've got my own
list of people to send postcards, but if you're particularly keen to get one,
drop me an email / message / comment and I'll see what I can do.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat May 20 12:27:38 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: Just the same old walkaways
Friday afternoon was sad. I'm not leaving yet, but I'm going away for a week
and then coming back for four days after the long weekend, so it's getting
close. Jon was on leave, my boss was off ill, and by 4:30 my other coworkers
had gone home for the day. Silly things like doing the washing up there for
the last time (Friday is my day, not that I always remember), and then turning
out the lights on an empty office, entering the alarm code, and locking up...
It all left me just a bit tearful, just as writing this now has done.
I cycled home, had a nap, and then set about cooking for Becky; I made
cauliflower cheese, which I know isn't hard but everything makes me nervous the
first time I try it, particularly when I'm cooking for someone else. It worked
well, fortunately, along with a bit of salad and some fried potato slices. We
chatted about books and this and that over wine and ginger cake before heading
off for the Cineworld for `The Da Vinci Code'.
Actually, I quite liked it. Sure, the characters are largely cardboard and the
conspiracy theories don't actually stand up to historical examination, but it's
a fun little murder mystery treasure hunt romp which fits together rather well.
OK, you have to ignore some unexpected shifts of allegiance and betrayals, but
I'm used to that from `24'. I think my only real complaint is that it takes
too long to wrap the whole thing up at the end, and even that is balanced by
the final beautiful scene at the Louvre.
We paused outside to watch some people being catapulted into the air, and then
cycled off into the night.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon May 29 00:48:27 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: The way you are instead
I'm back from a lovely week's holiday in Devon and can now say that I've
visited and photographed every operational railway station in the county. I'll
say more (and update my station pages) soon, but for now I'll just thank Ben
for his company, organisation, and cheerfulness over the week.
So, yes, I'm back, and reminded by phone messages, diaries, emails, and
emotions that Cambridge is a complicated place. The hills are just more
metaphorical here.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Jun 02 16:48:48 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: Landmark
It's my last day at this job today, and I've been alternating twiddling my
thumbs with frantic bursts of activity as people discover odd little things
that are broken. In about three quarters of an hour I won't work here any
more, and I'll wander off for a farewell drink with my co-workers. I'll miss
it, but only a little: I'm nervous about the new job suiting me, but here too
only a little.
I'm sad, but I'm happy, and I'll probably manage to avoid getting weepy for a
while. So here's to the past, with all its flaws, and here's to the great wide
unknown that the future has in store.
In other less poetic news, my voice has been gradually going all week, so do
forgive me if I sound unusually deep, husky, quiet, or as if my larynx has gone
for a surfing holiday in a gravel quarry. Normal service etc.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Jun 03 19:13:03 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: A voicemail in the wilderness
I'm sure there's important psychological research to be done on this: how is it
that a fairly intelligent human being, capable of communicating successfully
most of the time, is turned by answering machines or voicemail to a small pile
of gibbering incoherence? Or is that just me?
I suspect the reason is that when I telephone someone, I'm expecting to have a
conversation with them, with at least some of the usual linguistic cues: turn-
taking, tone of voice, pauses, etc. Instead, I'm faced with an unexpected
monologue situation for which I'm totally unprepared. It's unlike SMS or email
where I can edit what I'm saying to be clear (or appropriately ambiguous!) and
it's unlike public speaking where I'm prepared in advance to do all the
talking. So what you hear, when you get a voicemail message from me, is the
graunching of my brain changing gear without the linguistic clutch of
preparedness.
An obvious solution to this is just to hang up at the voicemail prompt, but
that somehow feels impolite; there was obviously a point in the telephone call
or I wouldn't have made it, after all!
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Jun 05 17:15:55 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: First day
I'm nearly at the end of my first day at the Cavendish. I have accounts and
things, and an office (albeit a nearly windowless one). Now I just need to
start working out how to do things for people, since there appear to be quite a
few people who want quite a few things to be done.
I have the same sort of feeling I had when I first started at Laser-Scan a
decade ago: slightly bewildered and daunted but kind of enjoying it too.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Jun 07 14:13:50 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: Cross
Out here in the Cavendish, there is no cash machine, so I had to cycle into
town this lunchtime to get some money. Halfway into town I got a phone call.
It was the letting agency.
Apparently, at my last inspection, concern had been expressed about my garden.
Really? Well, if it had, it hadn't been to me. Apparently, there have been
complaints to the letting agency from neighbours about the state of my garden,
so I have to fix it all within a week, as I am currently breaching the terms of
my tenancy agreement.
I am cross about this. Partly with myself for not making the time to sort it
out (and thus placing my home at risk). Mostly, though, with these unspecified
neighbours. What earthly business is it of theirs how messy or otherwise my
garden is, unless I'm shading them with Leylandii or something? And isn't it
just inexcusably rude to go straight to the letting agency rather than to ask
me politely or to put a letter through the letterbox? (For that matter, how
did they know which letting agency to contact? It's not marked on the house or
anything...)
So, I need to blitz the garden in the next week without turning into too much
of a sweaty eczematic mess with no wrists. And while I'm doing that I have to
wonder which of my neighbours is the rude snitch.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Jun 09 14:10:05 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: We melt in the heat
It is like Birzeit out there. A random collection of buildings of various
vintages, and between them the stretches of tarmac and white stone, absorbing
and reflecting the heat. It is quiet, for only a fool lingers long outside,
and you move from the heat to the hot shade to the greenhouse foyer and the
welcome waft of air conditioning. But still there's a tiredness, a lethargy
that permeates walls. Even in the cool and the shade, it's too hot to think.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Jun 12 22:50:34 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: Playing catchup
In life as much as in this diary, it feels like. Being busy in the new job
gives me less time to waste with spodding, and the heat takes away a lot of the
inclination to be a mad active social thing the rest of the time.
After the garden-related annoyances of Wednesday, I took an hour in the evening
to mow the lawns and strim back the worst of the weed beds. It still doesn't
look like a garden, but it might now look good enough for the letting agency
and the anonymous neighbour.
I didn't go to BMovie on Friday. Partly because I wasn't sure what else I
might be doing that evening, but mostly because I really didn't fancy dancing
in a hot club. After some faff, the evening became dinner at the Gallery,
thanks to Verity, and then an episode of `The West Wing' from near the end of
season six.
On Saturday I had parents visiting, so we nattered about things and went to the
pub for food before returning to my house to slump. I might have complained
about my father going on to watch the World Cup at us, but I was hot enough
that doing anything was too much effort; I settled for quietly upgrading my
laptop to the latest Debian while talking vaguely to my mother and going `eh?
what happened?' at the football from time to time.
In the evening was Verity's party. Compact and bijou, and missing some people
who unfortunately couldn't make it, but pleasantly alcoholic nonetheless. It
left me feeling happy in a contented way, as if a sense of proportion had
descended on my fears and desires, and I'm still running with that feeling.
I was tired all of Sunday. I watched the British Grand Prix in a headachey
haze, and paid sluggish attention to `The Prisoner', `Robin of Sherwood',
`Willy Fog' and `Yoho Ahoy' (listed here in decreasing order of required
attention span). There was a game of Robo Rally, I think.
Today I have enjoyed the air conditioning at work, worried some more about the
way it dribbles water down the wall, fiddled with Kerberos and LDAP, done some
emergency work for Recombination, gone to pizza, chatted to Mike (who I haven't
talked to in ages), tried without success to get the secrets of the universe
from physicists, and learned to tie a proper bowtie at post-pizza.
Gosh, the May Ball has come upon me very suddenly. Where did the past couple
of months go?
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Jun 14 19:05:27 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: Knotty problems
On Monday evening Clare taught me to tie a bow tie. Unfortunately, she taught
me to tie it around my leg, which is a viable strategy with her bow tie, which
has an adjustment clip half way along, but doesn't work with mine unless I
remove my head. So I've had to learn to tie one actually around my neck, which
is a great deal harder. I've managed to accomplish this several times, so I'm
reasonably confident that I'll manage _something_ on Friday, but there's
something not quite right as I always end up with a small bulge on one side of
the bottom of the central knot. (I also have an emergency clip-on tie!)
The scary thing is that I look at this, and for that matter at shoelaces, and I
realise that I have absolutely no idea how this knot works. There's
finger-memory, so I can tie my laces (though the number of times I have to stop
to retie them may suggest a certain digital dementia) but the whole thing just
doesn't make sense. It seems like you make a loop and pull it through another
loop _which doesn't exist yet_. Huh?
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Jun 15 23:05:08 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: Doldrums
A low evening. Always feeling slightly out of place, almost slightly
unwelcome, except that's my imagination talking. Chatter to Ingi distracted me
for a little while (why is it that my most involved conversations are about my
ailments?) but in the end it had to be futile: when my brain is like this it
won't be derailed. I could witter all sorts of things, but it would just be
overimaginings and overinterpreations filtered through negativity and booze.
I'll just say that I slunk home and will have an early night. With the ball
tomorrow night I'll probably need it.
A quarter of a century ago, probably more, a little boy walked down the avenue
of trees in Basset's Park. He was going to the Fair. He didn't know what it
was, but he had been told it was something fun, so he had a look of
determination on his face: he would enjoy this thing, whatever it was. That
was me, and tomorrow's ball tells me I've not really changed that much.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Jun 17 06:37:57 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: Rushes
Walking up the red carpet, conversations in a swing boat, firefly fireworks
amidst the trees... Chocolate fountains, knowing the words to `Casablanca',
dancing to cheese and a chaotic ceilidh... Dodgems, people dozing off in front
of `Some Like it Hot', emerging to find it light, a hall of people in DJs
eating breakfast and reading the morning papers, enjoying our own breakfast on
lawn. A final boogie...
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Jun 20 22:50:35 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: Contrasts
At lunchtime, talking to Sally, things seemed that mite simpler and more
optimistic. Now it's raining and I just don't know.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Jun 22 23:47:38 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: Only good days
Today's been good, with far more than the usual share of alcohol-fuelled
gatherings. First there was Kate's end of vivas champagne meet beside the Vet
School at lunchtime, and then after work there was the random University
working folk get together. Then, after _that_ was the Carlton, featuring good
natters with LNR (who I've not seen in ages), Rachel, Alison, Becky, and
Becky's friends from Spanish class.
Bedtime now, while I'm still smiling.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Jun 26 22:35:07 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: (Pump it up)
I don't mind that most of my friends are cyclists. Indeed, these days I'm one
of them, so it's just as well. Nor do I mind, really, that so many of them are
angry cyclists; depending on their mood I can sympathise, maintain a tactful
silence, or mutter about lowering blood pressure. What I do mind is a roomful
of loud angry cyclists, advocating at length and volume their favourite ways of
annoying motorists, because that turns me very quickly into a quiet angry good-
grief-I-wish-I-weren't-a-cyclist (and furthermore a ggIwIwac with a headache).
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Jun 27 13:01:41 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: Hack
Since it seems to be the week for mentioning hacks, I'll mention what I did
yesterday. It's a distressingly common error to paste all of a URL except the
initial h. But if you do the following in Mozilla:
* In about:config create a new boolean value
network.protocol-handler.external.ttp and set it to true
* Also create a new string network.protocol-handler.app.ttp and set it to a
string, something like "/home/userid/bin/addh"
* Write a small script:
#!/bin/sh
mozilla -remote "openurl(h$*)"
and save it as e.g. "/home/userid/bin/addh".
Bingo. ttp://google.com is now your friend.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Jun 27 23:15:17 2006]--
From: (S) to a coconut island (steph)
Subject: Being an idiot
Sometimes my brain worries me. It will hear things and completely fail to
process them, with results like this evening's idiocy. After a nice dinner and
small gathering to watch `Quantum Leap' at Becky's, I left my bum bag there,
and somehow managed to (a) not notice this and (b) ignore the shout of `you
forgot your bag' from the door as I cycled off. This is useless and idiotic
and I'm both sorry and annoyed.
But I'm also a bit worried. Is this sort of thing happening to me more? Is it
connected with the sensation I sometimes get that I've been talking to someone
and I have absolutely no idea what we've been talking about? Does any of this
sort of absentmindedness happen to any of you?
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Jun 30 00:07:41 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: What we see, and what we don't
Dawn comes so early in Summer that it's no surprise we didn't see it. But we
saw a newish dawn, its light not even yet warm, and shared it for a time.
And dusk? Dusk comes so late, perhaps even too late. And then, before we know
it, it's gone.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Jul 01 23:59:30 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: In parties
It's been too hot today. I spent the afternoon reading, dozing, and watching
TV brainlessly until it was time to do something other than wander around the
house in a stupor. That something was heading over to James's for a barbecue
which after a slow start became a pleasant little gathering. We giggled at
melted marshmallows and pointed at flittering bats overhead.
Things wound down at about 10:30 so I made my way home, diverting via the Suite
for their party. Saw a number of lovely people and chatted for a bit, but in
the end it was just a bit too hot and crowded for me, so here I am back at
home.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Jul 03 00:57:02 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Not in the running
...but alongside it, as I cheered on and handed water to a running Becky as
she did the Race for Life on Jesus Green and Midsummer Common. Well done,
hurrah, and general congratulatory noises!
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Jul 07 12:41:02 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: What kind of week has it been?
It's been an odd week. Busy at work, but rewardingly so, and I'm beginning to
experience once again the strange sensation of enjoying my job. Enjoying it
enough on Tuesday evening that I stopped myself feeling low by doing some work
from home.
My old (cute, according to Mary) phone gave up the ghost on Tuesday. Suddenly
it stopped charging when I plugged it into the mains, so I had to buy a
replacement. You would think that this would be a quick job: select phone,
pay, leave. I chose the wrong place to buy from with Phones 4 U, where I had
to say no several times to phone insurance, fill in a form they couldn't find,
enter my card into a variety of different card readers, watch as the salesman
struggled getting the SIM into the phone... In total it took about twenty
minutes. Still, now I have a new cute phone.
Last night was `Pirates of the Caribbean 2' at the Vue. It was a giggle, with
some marvellously silly set pieces, some brilliant Johnny Depp mincing, and if
you ever wanted to see Bill Nighy playing a squid then this is the film for
you.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Jul 08 13:23:10 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: No credit
When I left Landmark, I bought a new Virgin Mobile SIM and transferred my old
work number to it. Since then I've tried a couple of times to arrange to pay
the bill by direct debit, and both times I've been thwarted by computer
problems at Virgin's end. This time, I was thwarted by something different:
the credit reference agency.
Apparently, my record on Equifax has an incorrect date of birth. I have now
idea how this might have happened, but it's clear that it's annoying and
difficult to fix. I tried to phone Equifax, but their menu system operates on
the premise that you've ordered a credit reference from them and want to
dispute it. (In any case, once you'd got through the menu system there
probably wouldn't be anyone in at the weekend.) Since I have no particular
desire to reward them for their incompetence by paying them money, I've written
them a letter. We shall see what happens...
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Jul 11 00:05:28 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Grumble
Today was an annoying day at work. Other parts of the organisation caused
trouble for my users and I was unable to fix the problem. No matter how much
effort I put into asking for the problem to be fixed or how much I assure the
affected users that I'm trying to get things fixed, the interruption makes me
both look and feel bad, and that's frustrating. Still, tomorrow is another
day.
I trundled home after work, not fancying going to pizza, and slept for a bit
before grabbing some soup and rolls for tea. Feeling a bit better for this, I
looked for a plan for the evening and found Clare at Relativity, playing Civ.
Later the rest of post-pizza turned up and explained statistics to me. I'm
unconvinced it makes much sense.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Jul 12 16:10:48 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: And breathe in...
I think I need to learn some relaxation and self-calming techniques. Some of
my interactions with other parts of this organisation are becoming stressful
enough that dealing with email can send my pulse upwards and leave me jittery.
Which would be fine if I didn't have the rest of my job (which I am still
really enjoying) to get on with. Anyone have any pointers for where to start?
Alternatively, hugs and sympathy are welcome. Particularly from cute people.
(It would be a shame to waste such a good excuse!)
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Jul 19 11:57:04 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Good days, bad evenings
Work continues to be good and fun. However, I've had a spate of slightly low
evenings where I've not really wanted to be with people but I've ended up
feeling lonely on my own at home.
In the wrong sort of mood, undistracted, I find myself surrounded by things I
have to do: PuTTY, photos, tidying, gardening, copying things off my TiVo. I
can do some little things but they don't make a dent in the huge pile of Stuff
To Do, so I end up pacing around the house doing little jobs. And almost but
not quite bursting into tears in that strange tingly-nosed way.
The heat doesn't help, of course. I spend the day in a nice air conditioned
office and emerge in the evening into the sweltering world where everything is
hot and effortful. Plus there's the contrast with the new job, which has
improved my work-life so much that I'm noticing the lacks in my life-life.
Yes, I am working (in my own haphazard way) to fix those lacks ;-) but
sometimes it gets to me.
This whinge is now over. Smiling may now resume.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Jul 24 17:29:14 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Couldn't help but smile
It's been a good day. Things that I've expected to go badly have gone well,
and there've been a lot of small successes to help me feel useful. And that's
just work. In life, I'm making a vague attempt to keep in touch with people a
bit more, because it sometimes seems like I know so many people that I see
nearly not at all. Just putting in that effort is making me feel more positive
about myself.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Jul 25 00:24:54 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Happy Returns
After pizza I wandered over to the Arts and enjoyed a glass of wine at the bar
before flumping in front of `Superman Returns'. Very swooshy, and going once
again to prove that Kevin Spacey is particularly good stuff. Then, getting
home, I find nice email replies sitting in my inbox. That has to make it a
good day.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Aug 03 22:52:40 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Seven days of summer
I've not written in here for a while, mostly because I've been busy, so there's
a bit to catch up on. Kate and Nigel's wedding, to start with, which was
lovely but has been covered enough in diaries and photos that I needn't say
much more here. Then back to Cambridge in time to catch up with Vicky S, on a
flying visit to Cambridge, and a very pregnant Yasmin on a visit to the
Gallery: it must be very nearly time now!
Then a Sunday and an actual day of work on Monday, before three days of Active
Directory training course in central Cambridge. I wonder if anything will
still be working when I get back to real work tomorrow?
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Aug 08 13:02:18 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Situation abnormal
Nothing much broke while I was away on the course, although Friday was weird
because it felt like a Monday (being the first day back at work after doing
different things) while also being the end of the week.
Something Ben said on Friday evening about the University Computing Service
needing large file support for one of their projects spurred me into tackling
support for files bigger than 2GB (or possibly 4GB) in pscp and psftp. Over
the course of Saturday morning, bits of Sunday, and much of last night, I've
mostly got it working. Getting things like this working always comes as a bit
of a surprise to me, since I don't really see myself as a programmer, more a
sort of halfway proficient tinkerer.
Other things were dinner with Gareth's parents at the Gallery on Saturday
evening, followed by games, and the usual Sunday gathering, at which we started
`Sapphire and Steel'. Not sure what to make of it really, as not much seems
actually to be happening in each very short episode. We also finished `Around
the World With Willy Fog', so we'll be embarking on a new huge sprawling
cartoon epic. I wonder whether today's children's TV produces anything
similar, or whether ongoing plots are too much for the bitesize generation.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Aug 11 23:59:55 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Unwell being
I woke up this morning feeling bleary and with a headache, but made it into
work nevertheless. Although I've got too much work ethic to have ever taken an
unwarranted day off sick, enjoying my job made it very easy to get out of the
house regardless. I even got a fair morning's work done, but the headache was
only getting worse in spite of paracetamol, so in the end I gave up at about
1:30pm and came back home. I slept through the afternoon, and felt well enough
by evening to go over to the Gallery for `The West Wing'.
It should have been Bmovie tonight, but Clare was unsure about whether she was
going when I asked her in the pub last night, and not feeling 100% today made
the rest of the decision for me. It's annoying that it only happens once a
month, because it makes for such a long gap if you end up missing one.
Life is otherwise pretty good. Newish dawns are still faintly glimmering.
Right now, though, it's bedtime.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Aug 19 12:24:19 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Cycles
It's not been a good week for me and my bike. On Wednesday while I was
swimming someone took my lights, the fitting for my front light, and my bungee
cords out of my panniers. This was annoying, but it could have been much
worse: they could have stolen my copy of Alan Bennett's `Untold Stories' or my
waterproofs. As a temporary measure I bought some cheapish LED lights from
Halfords on my way back home, but when I got home I found that the LEDs on the
front one are green! This seems legally dodgy to me, although matters appear
to be complicated by EU law to the extent that it's practically impossible to
tell. I'll buy a nice new white one today, anyway. and keep the green anomaly
as a spare.
Then there was Thursday, which saw me get caught in the rain at lunchtime and
then in the evening take a corner onto Coton cycle path too fast and lose my
grip on the wet tarmac. Splat. No real damage done, fortunately: the bike's
OK and I just have an annoying graze on the heel of my right palm.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Aug 19 16:36:49 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Rest for the wicked
I just bought a bed. Since my old one is at least fifteen years old, it was
about time. Once this is delivered in about a month's time, this will give me
double bed goodness, space underneath I can hoover, and the chance to move my
existing single bed to my study/spare room. Nifty.
Speaking of dens of iniquity, I notice that LiveJournal have added the
<lj:security> tag to their RSS feeds, so those reading through RSS can now (for
the first time) tell whether a particular LJ post is friends-locked. Also
nifty.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Aug 23 23:45:51 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Rigidly defined areas of doubt and uncertainty
The trouble with this sort of thing is that it falls at that inconvenient
intersection point between interpreting others' intentions and wishes ("reading
between the lines", which always confused me when I was younger), clearly
communicating mine, and having the self-belief and courage to do anything to
put these into effect.
Is an email just an email, or is it more than just an email? Is the lack of an
email just the other person being busy, or have I managed to bore them to death
with my conversational random walk?
Is it possible succinctly to arrange to meet someone by email, or is this
doomed to failure when I'm not really sure how much logistical effort I should
expect the other person to be willing to put in, or for that matter how much
effort I should put in myself?
Can I accomplish anything of this sort without angsting about it or wittering
(admittedly today more reflectively than depressedly) into my diary?
It occurred to me at Kate and Nigel's wedding reception that what I could do
with is friends who could gently say `She likes you, no really, she likes you.'
Or the converse. (This was prompted by someone recounting saying almost
exactly this to one of their friends.) Perhaps I do have such friends, and
they've never had cause to say anything of the sort, or alternatively most
of my friends have as little clue as I do about any of this.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Aug 28 22:23:59 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Bike stolen
While I was at pizza this evening my bike was stolen from the racks next to
Hobbs' Pavilion. I thought I had locked it, but since I found the lock hanging
from the stand I can't have, unless they cut through the bike or picked the
lock or had a key that fit it.
It's a purple 21" Dawes Mojave Ladies frame, bought from Townsends in October
2005, and has their shield motif on the crossbar.
According to my documentation the frame number is 5A41005544.
When new it looked like http://www.chiark.greenend.org.uk/~owend/bike.jpg
although since that picture it has had rear pannier bags (black with red trim)
fitted. The thieves obviously went through the panniers as I found the stuff
they didn't want (a copy of RAIL, and various screwed-up bits of paper) on the
ground nearby. Unlike the thief who stole my lights, this lot obviously wanted
my waterproofs too. If you see the bike around, please let either me or the
police know.
In the meantime I'm going to have to walk to Townsend's tomorrow morning and
attempt to buy a replacement, although how useful this will be considering the
paranoia I'll have about leaving it anywhere is less clear. I suppose I should
be grateful that I'm wealthy enough to afford a replacement.
Even beforehand, today had not been a good day.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Aug 29 23:16:25 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Straight back out to do it all over again
I have increased my expected average speed. Or, to put it another way, I have
a BIKE! It is RED!
Following last nights doom and despair I went into Townsend's this morning with
the receipt for my old bike and asked them for `another one like that, please'.
It turned out that I'd have to wait a few days for exactly the same model, but
they offered me the next one up for only 20 pounds extra instead of 50 pounds
extra so I took them up on that and collected a new bike from them this
afternoon. Although the circumstances are less than ideal, I'm stubborn enough
not to let them completely overwhelm happiness at buying something shiny. I
still have to replace my pannier bags, waterproofs, and the puncture-resistant
tyres Clare and Ben got me for Christmas (in some ways losing a present seems
sadder than losing something I paid for) but they can wait.
Things that have crossed my mind since are insurance and security. Until now
I've not bothered with insurance because I can afford to replace most things
that might be stolen, but I might be rather zogged if everything I own were to
be destroyed somehow. Are there any sensible policies out there that might
protect me from this worst case and soften the blows of bike / TV / computer /
camera theft, while not having premiums such that I may as well just buy myself
a spare of everything?
As far as security goes, what (apart from making damned sure I actually do lock
the bike to a solid object) can I do to minimise the likelihood of my bike
being stolen? Not all bike locks are created equal, but as far as I can tell
even the decent ones are little more than a deterrent to someone with a pair of
bolt cutters. Is there some mega lock I'm unaware of? Also, is there any
deterrent benefit in these bicycle marking schemes? Or are there any
particular places I should try to park or avoid parking my bike?
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Sep 07 17:25:17 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Licence to kill (time)
Today I have been entering details of software licences into a database, in the
vague hope that at some point I'll have a clear idea of what software we have
licences for and where it's installed. It's a daunting slope to be staring up,
and typing in the details of licences is a real slog, but the end result will
be worth it if it makes me more confident that we're legal.
Probably the single big difference between this job and previous jobs I've had
is that I'm on my own here and responsible for this sort of thing, at the
interface between the technical and the administrative. For all that it's
sometimes a distraction from doing Cool Things it's quite nice to feel that I'm
in control around here.
`Working at the Cavendish is great. I have a vast army of minions to ignore my
every whim.'
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Sep 09 18:37:05 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: A day in the sun
After last night's BMovie, it took a little while for me to wake up properly
this morning, but once I had it was straight into town to meet Thea, who was
visiting Cambridge from Colchester. I couldn't have wished for better weather,
so we had lunch outside at Caffe Uno on Quayside and nattered about all sorts.
I'd been a bit nervous about meeting up with someone I didn't know very well,
but I really need not have: there always seemed to be plenty to say and it
never felt awkwardly quiet. (This is actually better than I do with good
friends some of the time!)
After lunch we did a sort of random walk through various of the colleges:
John's, Trinity, Clare, King's, and then up to Newnham to feed the parking
meter for Thea's car. The plan after that was to meet up with various people
at the Mill for punting, but we were running a bit late and Thea didn't have a
lot of time before she had to set off back home, so we settled for a gentle
stroll along the Cam to Newnham village instead.
And then, all too soon, she had to get back to Colchester. It was a lovely
afternoon.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Sep 18 11:06:14 2006]--
From: (S) faintest glimmer of a newish dawn (steph)
Subject: Irate
A month ago, I ordered a new bed and mattress, which was due to be delivered
tomorrow. Late last week they telephoned me to ask if they could rearrange the
delivery for Thursday instead. A bit of a faff, but no great shakes. Today,
though, they phoned me again saying that they didn't have the mattress in
stock. The next delivery date they can manage is the 3rd of October! I'm
quite cross.
It's a good job I already have a single bed and a double bed is merely an
anticipated luxury rather than a requirement.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Sep 25 14:26:00 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Derivatives of distance
What absence makes depends on what it has to make it from. Which is not to say
that I've given up, just that reasons grow less with time and distance, no
matter how I might like it to be otherwise.
And then, as attention wanders, I remember other interests that I've let slip,
and there's a kind of internal awkwardness that wants to have been less single-
minded. Guess I'm not really wired for keeping my options open.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Sep 27 16:35:49 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Socks
One of the Korean students broke his laptop yesterday. In return for fixing
it, he gave me a small metal bookmark in the shape of a brightly-coloured metal
sock. The text on the accompanying card says:
Beoseon (Korean socks). Ancestors wore the Korean socks with delicate pattern
even in invisible part to protect their feet.
So now you know.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Oct 02 09:34:04 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: A weekend
On Friday evening I went along to the Carlton for Becky's celebratory birthday
meal. It was good to see lots of people, notably Wendy whom I've probably not
seen since several Becky-parties ago, and CTS-Emma who joined the Robinson Ball
crowd back in June. Very good of course to see Becky, though it did take a bit
longer to recognise her when she arrived because she was wearing her new
contact lenses and had her hair down. She seemed to have a good evening too,
having lots of silly fun with the secret writing pen and UV light she got as a
present.
Last week had been a long and tiring one, though, so I went home a little early
in the hope of catching some much-needed sleep. And for much the same reason I
decided not to go with Becky and others to Bletchley Park: come Saturday
morning I was still shattered. Still, I went to Becky's party in the evening
and had a mostly OK time until I started to explode with sneezes. Now, it's
just about possible that I'm allergic to Becky's flat, but much more likely
that I've caught a cold of some sort. Bah, humbug, etc.
Of course, waking up early to watch the Chinese Grand Prix the next day may not
have been the wisest move, but I went back to bed afterwards, and I don't
really think it would have made much difference if I'd slept through. I was
still dozy and wooly-headed by the afternoon and evening when we congregated at
the Gallery. I played `Caylus' exceptionally badly.
And today, still feeling ill, I am of course at work. The new post-graduate
students start today, so they'll doubtless need me around to point them in the
right direction. Bleah.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Oct 03 22:04:58 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Decadent frogs
The final frog fell off my monitor just now. This diary records two frogs
falling off in February. It is as yet unclear whether this is in any way
significant, but it is recorded here as I replace all three frogs.
I've been off work today waiting for the delivery, and then working on the
assembly, of my new bed. It's now together, and hopefully solid enough for a
good night's sleep later. Wanting an excuse to get out of the house for a bit
this evening (and, um, not having any food in), I wandered over to the Castle
to join CTS folk for a bit. Even though you'd think I'd've got used to it
after 31.9 years on this earth, it still surprises me how quickly it gets dark
in Autumn. Pleases me, too, for I like this time of year in Cambridge.
Michaelmas Term is the original season, and the best.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Oct 05 17:20:39 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: /var/lib
Recently, I have been reading:
`Saturday', by Ian McEwan
`The Time Traveler's Wife', by Audrey Niffenegger
`The Puppet Masters', by Robert Heinlein
`Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said', by Philip K. Dick
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Oct 07 22:55:16 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: It's exploding cats and dogs
I've just got back from Karen's birthday party after deciding that there was
only so much I could take of exploding in sneezes and scratching my fingers to
pieces. I like cats, and indeed I grew up with a very lovely cat (called
Shiny) with no problems at all, but these days it seems I'm allergic to them,
even with the aid of antihistamines.
It's a pity, as I was having a good time at the party, both talking to people
I already knew and some people I didn't. In an ideal world I'd be missing no
opportunity to talk to new people, particularly when I'm in an `up' mood, but
with an allergic reaction that makes me massively itchy and fills my head with
goo, it's not really possible to stick around.
If I missed anyone or anything, or anyone or anything missed me, then
sorry, and email me. Or get them to email me.
For the future I shall try to remember that (a) Karen has cats, (b) I am
allergic to them, and (c) I should dose myself up in advance with the strongest
antihistamines I can locate. Silly body.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Oct 12 10:06:14 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: The sad squelch of a long October morning
It's not my week. On Tuesday and Wednesday I got drenched on the way into work
by rainstorms, and this morning, since the weather was fine (because I bought
new waterproofs last night, no doubt) I had a puncture instead. I wheeled the
bike out of the garage to that sad squelchy rubber sound, wheeled it back in
again, and struggled to work by bus instead.
Bah. I suspect I've still got a residual cold of some sort. I feel like I
could sleep for a week.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Oct 16 14:12:05 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Yet another movie
It was Bmovie again on Friday, and I went along in a good mood, already
slightly tipsy from work's `Get Together'. But it didn't take long before I
began to suffer the same problems I always do: apart from the Cambridge folk I
go along with, I don't really know that many people, and even when I do
just about know someone else there I rarely feel able to talk to them. And
then, even when I do come by some chance to be talking to someone I know less
well, I find I don't really have much to say.
Part of me is stubborn about this. When there's a good track playing I can go
out on the dancefloor and bounce and it'll perk me up again, and on a
particularly good night I can avoid noticing the social awkwardnesses all the
way through until the time comes to leave and catch the last train. It feels
like it's worth going if there's a chance of that. I also feel that by my age
I should be able to make polite conversation with anyone, so if I don't go I'm
giving in to crapness by default rather than at least giving myself the chance
to talk to people.
Another part of me is lazy, though, and the activation energy for going to
Bmovie is getting higher each time.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Oct 17 11:27:02 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Asleep in perfect grey buildings
For the past fortnight or so I've been tired. Not actually falling-asleep
tired, but weary in a way that makes it harder than usual to do things and so
tempting just to lie on the floor and do nothing. It's probably a credit to me
that I've managed to do useful things over the past couple of weeks in spite of
this, but I wish I knew what was wrong with me.
The easy explanation is depression, and it might be that. I'm on 25mg of
sertraline a day, which is a low dose, but I notice the adverse effects if I
try to decrease that even further, and I'm not actually wandering around on the
verge of tears for no reason, so if it _is_ depression it's a different or
milder type.
Another explanation might be a cold. I've had a vague sniffle, sore throat,
headaches, and the aforementioned tiredness for a while now, and perhaps that's
making me tired.
I shall be seeing my doctor on Thursday anyway, so I shall list my woes to him
and see what he thinks.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Oct 22 01:19:13 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Playing catchup
It's been a busy week at work, with new machines arriving or old machines to be
rebuilt for new students to use. By Monday I should be done with most of that
and can start working on interesting infrastructure plans again. I hope to say
more about this in a separate diary entry that people not interested in system
administration can quietly ignore.
On Wednesday evening I decided I didn't want to stick around at home and went
over to the Gallery for tea, wittering, and (as it eventually turned out)
watching Ben play `Liberty City Stories' as a small demonstration of the
shininess of the Gallery's new TV.
I went to see my GP on Thursday, and after poking and prodding me he decided
that the lethargy was probably just a protracted cold and it should go away by
itself, perhaps with a bit of paracetamol to help it on its way. Here's
hoping. On the anti-depressant front, I told him how unsuccessful reducing my
dose had been, and he agreed that I was obviously `on the edge' and actually
_increased_ my dose for at least the next six months. We'll see if this makes
me happier, fitter, and more productive.
The pub on Thursday evening gave me an opportunity to say hello to Charles
Finch, which was good. I didn't stay long, even though there was a visiting
Laura to talk to: another facet of the tiredness, I suppose, that I felt like
just going home and sleeping.
Friday evening was the usual `West Wing' watching, with a dose of `Yoho Ahoy'
on aforementioned new tellybox, thus proving that it can indeed display NTSC.
Today I took the train out to Brandon to collect its station. I first visited
it at one end of a walk with Ben, Gareth, and Verity, and it was in a sorry
state then: quite literally dilapidated in places! It's now been adopted, and
although it's still a bit bleak and has a long way to go to match up to the
success of Wymondham, it does now feel a bit more cared for.
This evening saw an Emergency Lack of Party party at Relativity, at which I
played poker with Ian, Clare, Ross, and Peter C, and later a bit of `The Big
Idea'. The first time I've stayed up so late and enjoyed it so much for quite
a while.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Oct 23 12:59:24 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Autoyast and the plastic population
Two new machines arrived last week to have Linux installed on them. So I set
one of them going with the automatic SuSE Linux installation procedure. But,
oh woe, the installer doesn't recognise the onboard network card. Fine, in
goes a random 3Com card. Then, oh woe, the installer doesn't recognise the
SATA disks. Fortunately, there's an option in the BIOS to make them appear as
boring old IDE disks. The installation proceeds.
We're nearly finished, and so the system restarts and fails to boot. The new
kernel it's installed recognises the SATA disk, and so doesn't see it as the
legacy IDE emulation thing (/dev/hda) any more. Boo hiss.
So we have to do the hard thing, rip apart the SuSE boot disk and replace the
kernel and initrd on it with newer ones. Now the installer recognises
everything. Hurrah. But on rebooting, the kernel it has installed is older
than the boot disk's, and doesn't see the SATA disk.
So I futz aroung with the installation tree to replace the kernel that gets
installed, and finally I have something that works.
All this is telling me that I really should think about moving to a more modern
version of SuSE than 9.x for the next round of installations. What it's also
telling me, though, is that I still have the brain and the patience to get this
sort of thing to work, and that automatic installation saves so much time that
you can afford to go through three or four attempts before you get it right...
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Oct 26 10:14:59 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Weary
I'm still very very tired. This morning getting out of bed and cycling to work
felt like they were accomplished through treacle. Now I'm at work, thinking is
a similarly viscous exercise...
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Nov 04 15:37:26 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: The lowdown
I am unhappy because of the following:
* depression
* tiredness
* poor appetite
* worry about ill health
* worry about parents' health
* lack of love life
* lack of effort to do anything about said lack
* lack of effort to organise birthday celebration which would have been an
excuse to see people
* shyness with new people
* not having much to say to people I already know
* untidiness of house
* not having done stuff on PuTTY recently
* having station photos still to put up on the web
* not making time to see my brother and my nephew
* spending too little time with some of my friends
* complaining all the time
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Nov 12 15:30:58 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Day
I managed to sort out at least some of my previous entry's whinge-list over the
past week, and even when I didn't sort some of it out, friends did. So it was
that I ended up having a birthday party last night at the Gallery, with the
usual Galleiac crowd plus Richard, Louise, Chris, Yasmin, Tony, Rachel, Jack,
and small people Oscar and Charles. I had an excellent evening, didn't get
mopey or fretful at all, and went to bed happy.
Granted I woke up this morning with a bit of a hangover, but nothing that
wasn't put paid to by a bit of paracetamol and water...
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Nov 28 23:27:00 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Time Present
It's strange to watch the effects of drugs on one's own brain, accepting all
the while that the interactions of chemicals and electric sparks is all I am.
The first time recently that I started reducing my dose of antidepressants, I
noticed that I started being attracted to people again. Now, having reverted
to a full tablet a day (`a therapeutic dose', I am told by the doctor), I think
I'm seeing the reverse effect: I'm becoming less interested in people. Or
perhaps, to be more precise, I'm becoming less bothered. I may still notice
people and think they're interesting or attractive, and to some extent I still
fancy the same people, but none of it seems particularly important. And not
seeming important, I don't rouse myself beyond laziness and self-consciousness
to make any effort.
Which is rather the converse of what you'd expect from antidepressants --
inaction and lethargy are very familiar depressive traits -- and in general I'm
happy. Possibly happier than I've been for a while, although that's something
I find hard to judge from inside. But when I'm depressed (or not
antidepressed), the emotions of attraction and obsession are felt more keenly.
Probably too keenly, as if the whole world hung on every step, but I wonder
whether the pendulum has swung too far the other way.
Alternatively, it could just be that I'm gradually accepting that things I
thought were possibilities aren't.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Dec 08 09:59:31 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Hang my hat
It's been a busy week, where I've yet to go straight home after work, and I
think I'm feeling the effects in terms of tiredness. I'm certainly noticing
the effect on the tidiness of my house. I'm also feeling guilty, since it
means I've not managed to be in when my parents have phoned, so I have no idea
how well or otherwise my father is. I plan to call them this evening to catch
up.
Still, it's been in a set of good causes. On Tuesday evening I went to the pub
with a few people from BSS. Sadly only a few, which dwindled to three by the
end, but it was still good to sit and natter. Wednesday evening was keeping
Sue company at Nursery Walk after her job faff, which ended up being a pleasant
little gathering with the extra company of Lucy, Dan, Mike, and Andrew. Last
night (Thursday) I went to the Arts cinema to see `Pan's Labyrinth' with Debbie
from BSS. It's an good film, though I think I was more engaged with the
real-life stories of resistance in Franco's spain than I was with the fantastic
elements that give the film its title. Some of the more violent scenes were a
bit squicky, mind.
It's notionally B-Movie this evening, but I doubt I'll go. I need an evening
of slumping on sofas more.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Dec 18 16:26:37 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Christmas Past, Christmas Present, Christmas Future
It's been Christmas for ages now. Last Wednesday there was the Cavendish
Christmas lunch in the canteen, which part of the research group I work for
went to. Then on Thursday there was the group's Christmas Party, including a
pot-luck late lunch at 4ish where lots of people brought along various sweet
and savoury things and we ate, drank, and were merry. Several people
complimented me on my spiced chocolate slab, which was nice. Then we decamped
to the Earl of Derby for more drink and chat, and thence to the bowling alley
for bowling and, um, more drink. I wasn't the absolute worst bowler there, but
I was by no means the best; there were three or four people who were actually
quite good at it!
Between bowling and ball jams that stopped us from bowling there was natter
and silly dancing with Sue, Doug, Danielle, and Debbie (who must be thanked for
organising the whole thing in spite of having a th*s*s on the horizon). It was
alleged by Danielle that I have `the moves', although I remain sceptical.
Fantastic fun, once again reminding me that it does me no harm at all to let my
hair down and get to know new people!
Friday lunchtime was the group's assistant staff lunch outing, so there was
more eating and drinking then.
And on Saturday there was Gallery Christmas. A big Christmas dinner, produced
with flair by Verity and her help-elves, followed by sofa-slumping,
present-giving, and the eating of home-made Christmas pudding. We had the
company of lots of lovely people: Verity, Gareth, Ben, Simon, Clare,
Ian, David, Chris, Yasmin, Emily, James, Richard, Louise, Vicky S, and two
small people in the forms of Oscar and Joshua. Merriment trundled on into the
evening as various people played Lego Star Wars on the PS2.
I'll be going to my parents on Christmas Eve, probably for a couple of days.
More relaxing than the previous week's hectic dashings, I imagine.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Dec 19 00:01:45 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Pop
Not the sound of me exploding after a large Christmas dinner at the Carlton,
but the noise my bicycle made just now. It had been feeling slightly squidgy,
so I decided to give its tyres a bit of a pump. After a bit of pumping on the
front one, I pulled the pump off and there was a `pop'. Somewhere along the
way the little proingly sticky-outy bit of the valve had disappeared and my
tyre was now flat.
Resigned, I took the wheel off and started to pull the tyre off, and snap my
tyre lever. Admittedly it's only a little plastic jobby, but surely one might
expect a tool sold for removing tyres to be robust enough for the task at hand?
So, now I have a bike with a flat front wheel, no tyre levers, and a old inner
tube patched up with unknown success. I shall have to take the bus into work
and do some unexpected shopping tomorrow morning...
One thing, though. When I was younger, I'm sure bike pumps were less brutal.
They had a little tube that screwed onto the valve, rather than just having the
pump push directly onto it. Am I imagining this, or is it still possible to
get sensible pumps?
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Dec 25 22:30:17 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Christmas Day
A few weeks ago I was not sure what to expect from a family Christmas this
year, or indeed whether to expect one at all; my father has not been at all
well with a variety of things related to his lung cancer or to its treatment,
leaving him in particular short of energy and appetite. But he's definitely
got better since earlier this month, and so I've had a good Christmas Day with
him and my mother.
I'm probably easy to please, but I was delighted by my presents: a set of
decent cutlery -- my spoons and forks have suffered many deaths by frozen food
this year -- was welcome, as were nice thick walking socks, an Ian McEwan book,
some CDs, and some book tokens. My parents bought each other consecutive
seasons of `The West Wing', which is pleasing since I set them off on that
track by buying them seasons 1 and 2 a couple of Christmases ago.
Christmas lunch was the usual fare, rounded off with Christmas pud served still
flaming, and the rest of the day passed between alcohol and telly. I've had a
good day, and my parents seem to have too.
Merry Christmas!
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Dec 31 15:01:06 2006]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: That was the year that was
2006 is nearly over, and probably will be by the time many of you are reading
this. Happy New Year!
As for the old one, what did it bring? Well, starting with my love
life (which has become less of a preoccupation over the past few
months for reasons probably chemical in origin), attractions rose and fell in
their usual way, but nothing is ever forgotten. I've got to know some new
people I like, and whether or not anything more is ever likely to come of that,
they're all still friends and nobody has exploded.
I have a new job. I left Landmark in June, and six months later it's still
fantastic to be working for BSS at the Cavendish. Even if other bits of the
organisation are less than ideal, my bit and the people in it are fabulous, and
as well as having a job that interests and challenges me I've made new friends,
which is always good.
My station-collecting adventures saw their first mishap in March as my train
hit an animal in Thetford Forest, but they were boosted by May's holiday with
Ben. We took our cycles down to Devon and collected all its stations, giving
my bike the first chance for some proper cycling rather than just pootling
around Cambridge. Sadly, that bike was stolen in late August, and I quickly
replaced it with a new one. I still miss the puncture-resistant tyres that the
old one had, though.
Lots more happened, some more important than others, but I'll summarise with
one word per diary entry for this year, then:
Horningsea computer satellite Bmovie sniffle asthma Creeper Jomsborg tedious
Calling gerundive Magog DVDs hangover NTL Valentine NTL frogs Fortran dwelling
pancakey indecipherable Mary cold Wimpole fares Thetford magnate Central
Norrell Waterloo Space depressing robot NetHack Eastercon demigoddess-hood
passive mope snooker fan resignation wedding cryptic bounce cheesecake Devon
Vinci station last voicemail Cavendish garden heat hot bow unwelcome Rushes
Sally alcohol angry mozilla absentmindedness dawn parties running phone Virgin
frustrating relaxation heat positive Superman Kate 2GB headache lights bed
reflectively stolen insurance licences Thea rearrange absence Beoseon Becky
frogs Saturday Karen puncture Together dose TV Autoyast viscous worry party
interactions Debbie bowling Carlton family.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Jan 09 12:20:32 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Of Pooh and Noo-Noo
Post-pizza last night was quite busy, and one of the more fun post-pizzas I've
had for a while. After the usual banter, we played the Post-It game. In case
you don't know, everyone is assigned a famous individual whose name is stuck on
a Post-It note to their forehead. Each person then has to ask questions to
determine who they are. By sheer chance, Naath, who is one of the more
Poohsoc-y people I know, got `Christopher Robin' but took ages to work it out.
Her guesses along the way of being a Lovecraft or Orwell character led to some
very strange images...
Also yesterday I noticed something on the roof of the lab outside my office
window. It looks suspiciously like the Noo-Noo.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Jan 11 17:21:19 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Mordechai
I remembered to bring my camera in yesterday to take a picture of
aforementioned Noo-Noo. Today I remembered the cable to upload the photo:
http://www.chiark.greenend.org.uk/~owend/2007/01/noonoo.jpg
After I noticed the Noo-Noo it was joined by a smaller cousin:
http://www.chiark.greenend.org.uk/~owend/2007/01/noonoo2.jpg
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Jan 19 17:55:48 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Weekness
It's been a week since I last said anything here. I'd say `oops' but I've had
a sudden attack of mope and this entry is supposed to be a positive one to
remind me of the good things from the past seven days...
So, last Friday I went out to the Castle to help various BSS people celebrate
Harald's 40th birthday. It was only slightly scary to realise that I was
towards the upper end of the age range of the people there, and possibly
slightly reassuring that I _felt_ closer to the younger end. Anyway, there was
much silly banter, I was slightly caught in the splatter of a ketchup
explosion, and I drank a lot but not too much. After a whila smaller part of
the gathering wandered over to the Pickerel for a couple more pints, and then
it was off home. Slightly wobblily, in my case, and pushing my bike most of
the way.
I was going to go to Jack's party on Saturday evening, but failed. I often do
the easy default thing, which in this case was going to the Gallery to watch
`The Empire Strikes Back' with Gareth, Verity, Ben, and Simon. Just as well,
really, since I think I'd used up my ability to be sociable the previous
evening.
Skip forward to this Thursday, and I managed to stay at the Carlton until past
eleven for the first time in ages, and even then had the energy afterwards to
play silly retro arcade games with Simon.
So why am I mopey now? Oh, it's probably chemical. It usually is.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Jan 24 16:38:01 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Snow on snow
I first saw the snow this morning out of the landing window, and it made me
smile. It's not been a proper Winter yet, with all this mild wet-and-windy
stuff that better befits Autumn, so snow makes it so! It was even proper snow
that settled for a while although it was gone by midday.
Fortunately there was a staff trip to the pub this lunchtime to make up for it.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Feb 01 17:43:15 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Sling has slung
Last night while cycling back home from the Gallery after a pleasant evening of
getting Linux to work on a TV and killing Resident Evil 2 zombies, I misjudged
things a bit and caught my right handlebar on the metal railings delineating
the edge of the cyclepath. I lost my balance and fell awkwardly with my right
arm out. A passer-by helped me up and checked I and my bike were both OK, and
then I cycled gingerly home. My arm was aching a bit but I didn't think much
of it until the last bit of the journey where I felt like I was in imminent
danger of fainting. I made it home, took two ibuprofen, and went to bed. It
was slightly uncomfortable but I got enough sleep. Since the pain was still
there in the morning I told work I would be late and got an appointment at the
doctor's.
The doctor I got to see was a nice lady, and she thought it likely just to be a
sprain. However she referred me to the Radiology department at Addenbrooke's
just to be sure nothing was broken or dislocated. I went to work, did a few
useful bits and pieces, and then went off for Unix lunch with assorted
University COs. Thence to Addies' where they Xrayed me quite quickly and after
a short wait told me that there was a fracture and that I should go to A&E.
Odd, really; I thought broken things were supposed to be unimaginably painful,
but this is more of an annoying ache than anything else. After a short wait at
A&E during which I kept dozing off, I was seen by a nurse who showed me a
picture of the moon. Sadly my shoulder doesn't look like that, and when their
whizzy web application came up I saw that I have a fracture on the knobbly bit
at the top of my upper arm bone. So I have to rest my arm in a sling, not
cycle or lift heavy things with my right arm, and I have a fracture clinic
appointment next week which will try to arrange some physio and things.
Silly body. Intelligent design my bottom.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Feb 08 18:57:15 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Network has broken, like the first network
How do you provide a reliable service to your users when the network underneath
you doesn't work? It's basically impossible, and if it were in my power I'd
work to fix it. But the setup at work is such that the network is run by a
central laboratory IT team while the services are provided by individual
research groups within the lab; I'm WAGN to their Railtrack, and so the job of
apologising for the late running of the printer and the cancellation of the
file server falls to me. I'm fortunate that my users don't complain at me -- I
think good customer relations have something to do with that -- but I still
feel responsible for the problem, as if I'm letting people down.
I'd love the problem to be that my trains had the wrong sort of wheels, or that
the drivers were poorly-trained, because I could fix that. But as it is I have
to watch Railtrack toggle the points back and forth confusedly as my trains try
unexpectedly to go to Penzance.
Vertical integration seems very tempting right now.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Feb 10 22:12:56 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Tired
I'm so very tired right now. The stress of two long days at work dealing with
stressful stuff while I also had a cold has taken its toll, I think. That and
my shoulder is aching in a way which I hope is just muscle ache from wearing
the sling, but which I fear is the fractured bit of bone settling in the wrong
place. I don't sleep so well at night now, and I have to get up at least 45
minutes earlier to get to work on time. Perhaps it's no surprise that I'm
tired.
I wish I had a way of knowing what was happening inside my shoulder. Pain
seems unlikely to be a good sign, but I don't want to be hassling the fracture
clinic if there's nothing to worry about.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Feb 13 01:56:33 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Episode II
I jolted my bad arm this afternoon, no doubt careless with relief at once more
having a working network. After feeling a bit queasy and failing to give Clare
her Latin lesson, I was recommended by NHS Direct to go to A&E to get my arm
checked out. Thanks to a lift from Ross I was there quite easily, and then it
was just a matter of waiting for a couple of hours to be seen. Not too bad,
really; I made some progress with `The Prestige' and snoozed. When I was seen,
the registrar poked my shoulder, checked my Xrays, and declared me fine to go
home. As a free gift I got a new sling.
A quick taxi ride home -- where did I get the knack of talking to taxi drivers?
-- snd it's now definitely bedtime.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Feb 21 23:21:34 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: On the mend
Back to Addenbrooke's this morning to be startled by NHS efficiency. I'd
barely sat down to wait before I was called and had to put my book down. Then
to the X-ray department; surely I'd get a chance to read there? Half a page,
perhaps, but then I was called again, X-rayed, and sent back out to wait for
results. Another half page and the results are there and I'm to go back to the
Fracture Clinic, where I barely have time to sit down before the consultant
wants to see me...
Anyway, the fractured greater tuberosity (translation: knobbly bit) of my right
humerus is healing well and it's time for me to start moving the arm a bit more
and sorting out physiotherapy to get it back to full function. I may even be
able to cycle again in a month or so! It's such a relief as I was worried I'd
not been still or careful enough for it to heal correctly. Now I can almost
feel the shoulder feeling better with relief. Perhaps a week ago I could never
imagine my arm working properly again, even though I knew rationally that it
would. Now it feels like it's just a matter of time.
Subject: Fuzzy logic
After work I went with Tracy and Debbie to Chilli's for dinner and then to the
Vue to meet up with various other BSS folk to watch `Hot Fuzz'. It's a very
funny film, something like the fish-out-of-water cop stories of `Life on Mars'
crossed with the stereotypically peculiar countryside of so many TV comedies.
(Or perhaps it's just that Simon Pegg looks just enough like John Simm to
remind me...)
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Feb 25 12:28:29 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Sky's the limit
So, it is looking increasingly likely that a number of Sky channels, including
Sky One, will be disappearing from Virgin Media cable at the end of February.
A bit of a nuisance for anyone who follows any TV shows on Sky; for me it's
`24' and assorted `Stargate', but I know a number of `Lost' fans who'll be
upset. For those who can't or won't switch to satellite -- I can't -- there is
an answer, of course, if you're prepared to go into the twilight world of
unlawful downloads. Historically I've been unkeen, but...
Apparently this has come about because Sky have tried to ask a greatly
increased price for their channels, which went way above the increase Virgin
were willing to pay. Part of me sees the monopolistic hands of Murdoch trying
to force out all competition and congratulates Virgin for standing up to Sky.
Another, though, wishes they could just put their principles to one side
and bash out some kind of deal.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Feb 27 03:28:46 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Burgled
My house has been burgled at some point today (Monday). I'm currently sitting
in a cold house waiting for the police to come and inspect the scene of the
crime. It's been three hours so far. I hope they won't be much longer.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Feb 27 05:14:27 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Sleepy
The police are still not here, and I'm having difficulty staying awake. But I
can't go to sleep because my house isn't secure. I'll try coffee but I really
don't know what to do.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Mar 09 15:09:08 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Picking up the pieces
The police finally arrived at about 8am, not much short of eight hours after I
phoned them to report the burglary. After giving a statement I went to bed to
sleep, only to be woken by the SOCO chap who failed to find any useful
fingerprints. Then back to sleep; I took the day off work because there was no
chance I'd be useful at work after a night without sleep.
I'd got Glass World in to board up the door about an hour beforehand, having
given up on the police, and later the letting agency sent a man around to screw
the door shut. It's not brilliant, but it'll have to do until the landlord and
letting agency get a new door sorted out. I have no idea when that will be,
though, as two weeks have now passed and there is still no sign of action.
Since then I've done various burglary-related things. I've bought web cameras
which will watch my house for burglars when I'm not there, which makes for an
interesting little IT project in itself. I also trawled various dodgy shops
around town and went to the Cowley Road car boot sale. If ever you wanted your
prejudices confirmed (or wanted to acquire some new ones), that car boot sale
would be the place to go. Dodgy Irish traveller types with obviously stolen
kit strewn over the floor, in particular, though there were all sorts of
unsavoury looking folk there. I remember when car boot sales were family
people selling off unwanted junk; this felt more like a machine for churning
out drugs money. Anyway, I didn't find any of my stuff...
In other news, my arm is gradually healing and I've been automating Windows
installations at work.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Mar 12 16:24:41 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Absent friend
I sometimes worry that I make a prat of myself when I go to the pub with BSS
people, but perhaps that doesn't matter if I and other people seem to have fun.
They're good folk, and going out with them makes me feel young. I didn't even
have a hangover the next day, but the beer must have immunosuppressed me a bit
because by Sunday I had the beginnings of a cold, and by Sunday evening I was
collapsed energyless on the Gallery's sofa.
So I've not been in work today, although I've tried to help people remotely
when I've occasionally checked email...
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Mar 14 16:07:08 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Captivated
Nostalgia (and Ben playing `Frontier' on the Gallery's telly) prompted me to
dig out one of the most addictive games I played on my Atari ST, namely
`Captive'. It's a first-person RPG, in the non-roleplaying sense that computer
games seem to use, heavily inspired by one of my other great ST addictions,
`Dungeon Master'. Walk down corridors, flick the right switches, find, buy, or
steal the right objects to do what you want, kill lots of stuff that gets in
the way: nothing particularly sophisticated even by the standards of the time.
However, the thing that really marks it out for me is the sheer atmosphere of
the game. The slightly dingy colours and the fact that the monsters are just
hard enough to pose a challenge mean you're always on your toes making the
choice between fight and flight.
Unlike `Dungeon Master', I never finished `Captive' when I played it on the
Atari way back when. Who knows whether I will this time?
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Mar 21 17:24:28 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Life on Camberwick Green
The introduction to last night's `Life on Mars' was lovely: a Trumpton-style
Sam Tyler - aww!
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Mar 24 18:19:02 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: The future
My father has been ill with lung cancer for a year or so now, but the prognosis
has always seemed good. That in spite of some setbacks: infections due to the
chemotherapy, loss of appetite due to the drugs, and (almost most crippling of
all) the reduction of his voice to a hoarse whisper. Today I received a
telephone call from my mother saying that he'd been admitted to hospital and
a scan had revealed that the cancer had spread. And that nothing more could be
done; he'll be moving into a hospice for palliative care, but it's just a
matter of time.
So I have to dash (in as much as public transport allows for dashing) to
Northampton tomorrow, and then... Well, I don't know what happens then. How
well will my mother cope on her own? Should I drop everything and visit
both parents lots or try to strike some sort of balance between caring and
carrying on with my life? I hope I'll get an idea, both of what I'm expected
to do and of what I'm able to.
I'm not sure what I'm feeling, on this strangely grey day. Sad, uncertain,
concerned: all of these, but it's confused.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Apr 04 16:26:39 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: That Sunday
So after a bit of faffing to find the right coach, I made a Sunday trip to
Northampton to visit my father in hospital. It was good to see him, but also
worrying: when I first walked through the door I saw a pile of blankets on
the bed, and it was only after a second or two that I realised that he was in
there. He'd lost a lot of weight -- various drugs had made his appetite very
poor -- and the hospital food wasn't exactly conducive to fixing this. Still,
his mind's the same as ever, with all his enthusiasms and grouches intact, so
after a bit of a talk about the situation we nattered more generally, about the
F1, Moto GP, and various other bits and pieces. It was almost possible to
ignore the situation and just enjoy his company, although of course his voice
and coughing were reminders.
It was only really after I left his room that it hit me a bit, and I walked
along the hospital corridors on the verge of tears. Some instrumental was
playing in my head that seemed so appropriate but which I can't now remember.
It's probably just as well, as I expect the tune would bring the tears back.
Through Northampton centre to the dingy gloom of Greyfriars Bus Station with
its distinctly unwelcoming `Welcome to Northampton' signs, and then by bus to
Wellingborough to visit my mother. We talked for an hour or so, and then I
walked back into Wellingborough centre to catch the bus back. Strange, walking
through this home town, at once so familiar with all the memories from my
childhood and yet so strange now my life is in Cambridge.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Apr 05 23:34:54 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Wednesdays
Shortly after that Sunday my father moved into the hospice in Kettering, and
things looked optimistic for a while: there was talk that he might get enough
mobility back to go back home to my mother. I spoke to him on the
phone and he seemed fairly well. But yesterday, not long after I finished
writing my previous entry here, I got a phone call from the hospice saying that
his condition had deteriorated sharply. The suggestion was that he might not
make it through the night. I saw him that evening, and he was obviously
unwell, but still lucid (though very hard to hear with his voice just a
whisper punctuated with coughs). I left him to get back to Wellingborough to
visit my mother and spent the night there. Today (Thursday) was spent almost
entirely at his bedside, either with my mother or with my brother who'd managed
to drive down from Hull. He was rather better today, and easier to understand,
so the immediate emergency is over and I'm back in Cambridge now. But the end
is still all too near and I'm all too aware that there's nothing to be done
about it. I'm unsure whether a shortage of shoulders to cry on is a bad thing
at the moment.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Apr 07 22:44:43 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Peter Dunn, 1944-2007
My father died earlier this evening after a lengthy argument with lung cancer.
I will miss him deeply.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Apr 09 22:59:55 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Coping and Caring
Before I say anything else, I'd like to thank everyone who's been a friend to
me over the past few days: everyone with messages of sympathy, hugs, or offers
of practical help, and in particular the folk at Rachel and Tony's party for
help stopping me quivering, and Sally for driving me down to Wellingborough on
Sunday. It's all very much appreciated.
It has been a strange couple of days. A combination of sadness and happiness
as we remembered so many of the good things about Daddy and got on with the
everyday business of living and the stuff that comes next. It's been so good
to see my brother, whom (for one reason or another) I've not seen for a year or
more, and to know that my mother has friends around her for when we both go our
separate ways to Cambridge and Hull.
There are a lot of practical things to do. Because of Easter, so much has had
to be put off, but as he would say (and did, the last time I saw him) `such is
life'. Once the death has been registered tomorrow we can work out when
there'll be a funeral, and stuff about wills can follow. One thing at a time.
Little things make me cry a bit. I'm taking his laptop back to Cambridge,
since my mother has no use for it and my brother already has one. It makes
sense, but I keep thinking `I can't take that, Daddy will want it' before I
manage to stop myself. Over time, this will pass. He would have understood
the tears but at the end there would have been a shrug: `you just have to get
on with things'. And so we do, and so we will.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Apr 16 12:27:01 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Reading up
For various reasons I've been reading up about DNA and gene-related things
recently. Apart from valuing hugely my classical education for helping me to
understand scientific words (oligomer, ligand), I've been wondering something.
DNA has two strands, and because of the base-pairing mechanism by which a C on
one strand is paired with a G on the other and A with T, you get something like
this:
5' C = G 3'
A = T
G = C
C = G
A = T
3' G = C 5'
So the question is, when you're listing a bit of DNA (say, in this example,
CAGCAG), how do you know which strand to take? How do you know that it's
CAGCAG rather than CTGCTG ?
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Apr 19 18:01:11 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Words with a semiquaver.
My father's funeral service was this morning. It was simple, with the family
and a few friends around who knew him. I said this:
You can tell what someone is really like from the mark they leave on
the world, on people they meet and things they do, and it was very
hard for anyone to know Daddy for very long without getting an
impression. You could almost guarantee that impression would be a
good one.
He was genuine, practical, `No Nonsense', and earned people's respect
for that alone. He would apply himself to things 100%, whatever they
were, and it would show in the results and in the pleasure he took in
it. This is a man who learned to ski, and ski well, at age 55! He
was fun too: great fun. Enthusiastic, silly, and jokey right to the
end of his life. But also sympathetic, understanding, and loving.
Imagine all of that in a father, or a husband, and you can see why so
many of our memories of him are good ones. And why, even now he's
gone, I'll never be short of his good advice, his bad jokes, and the
ability to face life with a smile.
I miss him terribly, but I'll remember him more.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Apr 26 18:13:04 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Drive time
Last night I drove a car for the first time in the decade since I passed my
test. Somewhat to my surprise, I was able to do it without too much
difficulty. Just like riding a bike, except without as good a view. There
were a few niggles -- my road positioning wobbled a bit and I got up to speed
less quickly than is ideal -- but I think it's safe to say that I can still
drive. I'm having another refresher lesson next week to give me a bit more
practice, and then I think I shall buy a small car and pootle around a bit with
that to give myself some confidence.
The lesson had two extra unintended lessons. First, the instructor was ten
minutes late due to Cambridge traffic! Then, because I'd never done it before
and the car was short of fuel, we went to a petrol station to fill the car up.
We go to pay and... the instructor has forgotten her purse! Much embarrassment
on her part, but I paid for her and she'll pay me back in the next day or two.
Check your money before you put the petrol in!
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Apr 26 18:18:54 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Crash and Learn
Today was a bad day for the computers under my control. One of my Windows
domain controllers died; was it coincidence or had it noticed me studying
Active Directory disaster recovery documentation? It's not a big deal, as I
have other domain controllers and it didn't have any critical data or FSMO
roles. Then this afternoon, in an attempt to quieten a noisy CPU fan on a
different computer I managed somehow to quieten the whole computer into a
deathly non-functioning silence. Don't you just hate it when you make things
worse rather than better?
---------------------------------------------------[Wed May 02 23:50:31 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Apropos of Daddy
On the phone to my mother this evening, she asked me how I was `apropos of
Daddy'. The answer is complicated. It's been almost a month since he died,
although to be frank I don't know where April went, and I'm mostly fine,
getting on with life. But there's one thing right there: `almost a month
since'. I find myself crossing off the days, weeks, months since it happened,
correcting the unavoidable personal statement to `a week ago', `two weeks ago',
`nearly a month ago', and every time is a little reminder of the past and
presents a little worry about the future. Will it always be like this,
anniversary after anniversary?
Another thing is wondering how well I'm coping. When life isn't full, it's
empty, and the past couple of evenings to myself (which I have in the past
enjoyed as a slight respite from a mad social calendar) have felt a bit like
exercises in passing the time until it's just about late enough to go to bed so
I don't have to think of anything else to do. I'm fine at work where I may be
a bit scatterbrained but always usefully busy with something, but on my own
with nothing I have to do I find myself a bit lost. It's more a slightly dead
sensation than the verge of tears that depression can be, and it doesn't have
the staring at walls aspect of depression either. I will mention this to my
doctor when I next see him.
And yet, with the driving practice and going to Nationwide to get advice about
mortgages, I've made more practical progress in my life now than over most of
the last few months. There are current reasons for it now that weren't there
before (the wish to be able to visit my mother more readily, and the
possibility of some money from my father's will) but these are things I've
considered doing for a while. I've had a kick up the backside, which in
metaphor as well as reality has the problem of being painful.
And then there are little things. The phone is answered in my mother's quiet
voice rather than my father's booming greeting. They won't be coming down for
a lunch in the pub again. He isn't around to be pleased at the fact that I'm
getting done things he'd long been trying to persuade me to do.
But them's the knocks. *shrug* (Illness came between my parents and their
dream of retiring to France, but one good reason why my father liked the French
must surely have been that he and they shared a talent for shrugging.)
---------------------------------------------------[Tue May 15 09:26:13 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Chufflinks
Clare is great. She bought me TARDIS Cufflinks! *bounce*
In other news, I've been making slow progress towards buying a car, nearly no
progress towards buying a house, and the most progress of all towards having a
holiday. This is probably a good thing, since it will stop me worrying about
a lot of random things that have been cluttering my brain of late.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed May 16 10:58:39 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Unpacked
I seem to be stressing about my upcoming holiday, because there (seems like
there) is so much I need to do before I go and so little time to do it in. I
should learn to be laid-back and let it all work itself out one way or
another but it feels difficult right now. Perhaps that's because my brain is so
used to being cluttered with important things that it's having difficulty
dealing with things that are frankly trivial.
Anyway, here are the holiday things I am worrying about:
* Finding accommodation
* Making sure my bike is OK (the change from 3rd to 4th gears seems a bit
wonky)
* Clearing space on my memory card
* Installing Linux on my laptop
* Reorganising things so they don't happen while I'm away
---------------------------------------------------[Mon May 28 16:32:25 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Shut that Dorset
Last week was Station Collecting Holiday No. 3, with Dorset following in the
footprints (or four-foot prints?) of Devon and Cornwall to have all its railway
stations visited. It went remarkably well, really: we only had one day of bad
weather (on which we pootled back and forth between stations on nice dry
trains), and only one incidence of serious train woe (which we solved by
cycling instead). I think my tolerance for cycling distances has increased
since last year, although this year's heat did sometimes make me flag as much
as the cold and wet of last year's ride to Barnstaple.
The thing I like about these trips (apart from the delightful madness of
planning a holiday around visiting railway stations) is the variety of
different places and terrains I get to see. Bustling Salisbury, with many
more people than we'd seen on the cycle ride from Christchurch; the strange
moor-like heath on leaving Beaulieu Road; the alarmingly pretty and
well-at-heel town of Sherborne; walking the old tramway through the streets of
Weymouth...
All pretty much impossible without Ben sorting out timetable plans,
particularly since I seemed to spend portions of the week forgetting where we
were, where we'd come from, and where we were going. So he should be thanked
lots. I can probably start this by being better at putting up the web pages
with the station photos this year.
Friday saw two mishaps: Ben fell off his bike in a map-folding incident that
left a hole in South Wales, and a cash machine in Poole munched my card.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue May 29 23:12:23 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: You can call me on the telephone
Since my father's death I've been doing my best to keep in much more frequent
touch with my mother. I may not be able to see her in person that often
(although I'm hoping a car will help with that) but I can telephone her every
week or so to recount any recent news and check all is well with her. It feels
very important to me; I miss Daddy in a very strange way that has little to do
with his immediate absence, and I can only imagine how much more immediate and
painful that would be if he'd been there every day to talk to.
It cheers me, and it seems to cheer my mother too, but at the same time it has
a sadness to it that makes me pause before picking up the receiver: this is
something I am doing that I did not do before, which reminds me of the reasons
for that. (And perhaps she's dropped the idea now, but my mother was long of
the opinion that the telephone was for transmitting information rather than
chatting.) Also, because of the nature of the things we have to talk about at
the moment, there's the slightly grim matter of inheritance.
It obviously makes sense, given my father's wishes, that we should seek to get
as much money into my brother's and my bank accounts as possible and as little
as possible into the hands of the taxman. But discussing it and suggesting
ways to arrange this feels somehow mercenary and a bit dirty. Irrational, I
know, but there it is.
And the other thing that gets discussed as a result of all this (because of
Inheritance Tax) is the possibility that my mother won't live seven more years.
It is as if I have to come to terms with losing my mother before she's actually
gone, or before I've even really got to grips with my father's death. So you
can see why, even though I'm glad to spend half an hour talking on the
telelphone, there's a sadness in it too.
Childhood is ending so soon, far too soon.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu May 31 10:14:45 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Incest rape murder porn think of the children!
There's a lot of hoohah over on LiveJournal where a lot of you read this diary;
basically the LiveJournal admin folk have deleted a number of journals on the
grounds that those journals condoned illegal activity. The snag is that
they've not been very discriminating and have ended up deleting the journals of
rape survivors, fictional RPG characters, and fanfic authors. Predictably
everyone is up in arms, and we'll have to wait and see whether LJ backpedals or
waits for it to all blow over in the hope that the vast majority of LJ's users
are too lazy to care.
But my point here is: you had it coming. If you entrust your words to a
service, you're entirely at the mercy of the administrators of that service,
and the bigger the service is, the more likely it is to suffer this kind of
problem. Among other reasons, this is why this diary isn't a fully-fledged LJ.
(It is on a third-party service, as it happens, but that third-party service is
sufficiently small that it's rather less likely to suffer from a similar
problem, and if it does my setup is such that it's not a big deal to rejig it.
The aim is reducing risk, not eliminating it.)
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Jun 10 17:50:24 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Quadrirot
I'm now the proud registered keeper of a Fiat Punto, so I've been practising.
Yesterday, I drove for the first time ever on my own and got to Milton
Tesco's and back, and today I went to B&Q on Newmarket Road. Whereas yesterday
I was going `woo' at my unexpected competence, today I'm feeling utterly
dispirited by my uselessness. Mostly because I really cannot park at all;
after going back and forth like a demented loon in B&Q's car park, I then went
back and forth like a demented loon in my driveway. It probably is just a
matter of practice, but it left me feeling uneasy and jittery. It was a relief
to get on my trusty old bike and cycle to the Gallery. I can do that.
Also, cycling straight after driving made me realise just how much better a
view of your surroundings you get as a cyclist than in a car. Scary, really,
as you'd hope your awareness of the road in a tonne of metal would be better.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Jun 15 12:47:58 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: What might be real life
Life has felt like it's been dragging a bit lately. I've felt depressed,
listless, and I've not really made much progress at work. Still, Wednesday
night's Marillion gig at the Junction was fun. I went along with Gareth,
Verity, and Simon, and we met Clare there.
The point of their current tour is to push their latest album, `Somewhere
Else', so of course they played a few tracks from that. The album's yet to
grow on me very much, but they played `Thankyou Whoever You Are' which is one
of the tracks that definitely has. It can take a while for me to get to like
an album, mind; I was pretty unconvinced about `Marbles' when that first
appeared, but `You're Gone' and `Fantastic Place' feel like old friends now.
They played `Ocean Cloud' too, and if a 17-minute track with a lot of downtime
in the middle was brave on an album, it was braver live. (To be fair, it's
more like a mini `suite' than a single track. And the lighthouse effect was
cool.)
And, because I first began to `get' new-era (post-Fish) Marillion when they
released `Anoraknophobia', I was glad that they played `Between You and Me'
too. Oh, and they played `Garden Party', just because it was Cambridge and
we're so very lovely. Jolly fun.
What wasn't jolly fun was the ten-minute queue in the rain to pay at the
car park's two on-foot paystations, or the subsequent half-hour it took for
Simon to get the car out of the car park. Someone wasn't thinking very clearly
when they designed that car park...
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Jun 16 20:23:55 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Duel Carriageway
Today was the Big Trip, the Great Adventure, the Huge Test which would see
whether my driving ability was a match for the A14 and A509 which together form
the ideal route from Cambridge to my mother's house in Wellingborough. Apart
from an initial glitch at Milton Tesco filling station -- how was I supposed to
know you needed to press a little yellow button before the pump would deign to
dispense fuel? -- the journey there went smoothly enough. Some impressive
blatting rain gave my windscreen wipers and headlights a run for their money on
the way both there and back, but I seemed able to cope. It's about an hour's
drive, possibly less in better conditions, so it's good for popping to visit my
mother for a few hours on a semi-regular basis.
It's very tiring, though, perhaps because of the concentration required. I
dozed off earler at the Gallery, and may end up having an early night tonight.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Jun 19 17:06:15 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Lowdown
I'm still feeling very low and tired all the time. I can't tell why this is.
I may be sickening for something, reacting to the hot weather, or just plain
depressed; that shouldn't be the case since I'm on a higher dose of
anti-depressants at the moment, but perhaps there's been more reason than
usual to be depressed of late.
Last night I found I needed milk, so I cycled to the co-op on Milton Road, only
to find that it had already closed. I went to Milton Tesco instead, over the
A14 cycle bridge. When I worked at Landmark in the Innovation Centre I used to
find it an effort to cycle up the bridge's ramp; since it's quite easy now I
must have become fitter over the past year. Milk once acquired, I cycled
through Milton, down Fen Road, and back to mine along the towpath as the light
dwindled.
As I reached the railway bridge I saw the fireworks from Trinity Ball in the
distance, reflected in the river. It reminded me of Robinson Ball last year: a
happy, but slightly wistful, memory. But there are no maps of the road not
taken; you can only look back and wonder how you missed the crossroads.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Jul 05 09:32:41 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Little things
Stopping myself before I write `parents' on the calendar in my kitchen...
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Jul 09 12:04:11 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Oh please do come
Saturday was the BSS Garden Party, one of those seasonal get-togethers that
help to make us one of the more social groups in the Cavendish. I got there
early to help set up, so I had fun helping Tracy (our administrator) and Sue
(a second-year PhD student) assemble a pair of gazeboes. (Or should
that be gazebos? It all makes me think of `Arcadia', anyway.) We managed a
lot of food and a barbecue -- did you know that if you eat too much meat you
get `meat sweats'? -- and there was juggling and frisbee on the Cavendish lawn.
There was also, of course, a lot of wine, so combined with the sun I was quite
tired and tipsy by the time we'd cleared up and set off for the pub. I was not
exactly melancholy but slightly pensive, but it passed as I nattered to various
people on the way. When we got there, though, it was almost all I could do to
stay awake, and our little group evaporated a bit after 11.
I'm sometimes unsure about all this socialising with people from work who are
often at least ten years my junior, but it depends so much on mood; if I'm
feeling slightly low it makes me feel old, but on other days it makes me feel
that bit younger. On balance I felt young on Saturday :-).
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Aug 12 23:27:08 2007]--
From: (S) it's over, let it go (steph)
Subject: Recombined
That was the con that was, it's over, let it go. People had fun, games were
played, panels were attended, songs were sung, and beer was drunk. I won't
dwell on the one major thing that marked the committee's convention, because it
largely didn't affect most of the members, and the convention seemed to keep
going regardless. Clearly we did _something_ right amidst all those meetings
and frantic emailings.
I interviewed one of our Guests of Honour, but since it was Jo Walton whom I
already knew, it wasn't very stressful at all. I moderated a couple of panels
without too much incompetence, was an assistant professor to Ian Watson's
Professor Yaffle (perhaps you had to be there!), and presented the con's
closing item, `I'm Sorry I Haven't An SFing Filking LARPing Clue'. People
laughed, and I left with a big smile on my face. That's a conrunning buzz,
which is a dangerous dangerous thing.
It wouldn't have happened without Clare, Nicholas, Duncan, Mark, Bug, and
David. It wouldn't have happened so smoothly without a spontaneously
self-assembling Green Room (never mind biological self-assembly, look at
fandom!). And we wouldn't have coped with things that arose had it not been
for the vast number of fans who helped; I'll single out Persephone and Kari for
particular praise here, but there were many others.
As I left, two of our Guests of Honour were chatting about SF and roleplaying
while Emily (one of the filk committee) was playing a game on one of the gaming
tables. I think we succeeded.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Aug 17 16:42:09 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: Nothing doing
Wednesday evening was the first evening in a while where I had nothing to do.
It was quite perplexing really, but I managed well enough by getting around to
a week's worth of washing up and tidying before slumping on the sofa for the
increasingly intriguing `Cape Wrath' on C4. Then I found the 3D Lego CAD
programme I'd installed on my Windows box some time ago (http://www.ldraw.org/)
and accidentally spent a couple of hours designing a virtual LEGO model of a
(um, what was it?) `cycle in Z3 none of whose orthogonal projections contain a
cycle'. Trust me, it's a prettier object than it sounds.
The nifty thing about LDraw is that it has a 3D viewer application which can
run as a Windows screensaver, so by the end of the evening I had one of these
things rotating gently around on my monitor.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Aug 24 11:50:52 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: fugit irreparabile tempus
Summer has gone past so very quickly this year. Back in July it seemed like
this endless period in which I could get all the upgrades and long-term work
done at work while the students were off on their holidays, but now there's
only a month left and I find myself wondering where the time all went. The
time, and for that matter the weather: a soggier August I don't remember.
Anyway, I'm playing catchup here, so...
Last Saturday was another journey to Wellingborough to visit my mother, with
the added attraction that my brother Giles, his girlfriend Sara, and my little
nephew Drew would also be visiting. I've not seen Drew since he was very
small, but now he's a lovely little boy. He's fascinated by so many things
(particularly, for some reason, street signs, which he will hug) but can be
persuaded to move on if you tell him to `say bye-bye' to whatever it is.
He's beginning to get a handle on language, at the fascinating stage where
babble and words mix, and readily attaches new names to things and people; by
the end of the afternoon I was definitely `Uncle Owen'. We walked to the pub
with him for a meal, and then he had a clamber on the huge soft climbing frame
they have at one end of the pub. Giles and Sara have already done a great job
with him, it seems to me. It made me very happy, as some good news to balance
the bad news of my father's death in April. It's also wonderful that my once-
wayward brother has become the settled father.
Sunday evening was the Recombination committee dinner, partly to wind us all
down after the con, and partly as recompense for Bug's back giving way at the
dinner with our Guests of Honour at the con itself. We went to the Jinling
noodle bar on Peas Hill, which was a good place to discover. Not as busy as
Yippee or Dojo have been when I've been there, and with proper chairs rather
than benches. My crispy fried noodles were nice too.
Monday evening was Bug's birthday^Wgoing to Edinburgh dinner. Definitely not
birthday, since the restaurant (Lucky Star, next to Cineworld) would have sung
to us if we'd let on. (We didn't actually escape, since someone else at
another table hadn't been so wise and was serenaded with an endless loud
PA-system rendition of `Happy Birthday'.) Food was buffet-style
all-you-can-eat Chinese, which is a dangerous temptation to eat far too much.
After a hesitant start there was a fair bit of mingling so I got to talk to a
few different sets of people along the long table.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Aug 30 12:00:46 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: Moneylenders loll on the Costa del Sol
It was one of those Banky Mondays on, um, Monday, and with Gareth and Verity
taking the weekend away to visit Verity's parents we shuffled the days of the
week around into a different order.
Friday was held on Wednesday, and we watched Danger Man at the Gallery.
Actually the others watched it. I watched about two thirds of it in between
dozing off; I must have been tired after swimming.
Sunday was postponed until Monday and featured Robo-Rally and Avengers. I was
oddly awake, and certainly much more than I normally am on Sundays.
Saturday had a barbecue at rjk's place, and the actual Sunday featured Bug and
Simon's going-away-to-Edinburgh party. After a very rainy week, it was a warm
and bright weekend, so sitting in the garden chattering made for a very
pleasant way to spend the afternoon and evening. It was a party mostly full of
SF fans I didn't know very well, and I suffered the usual problem I have at
conventions that I'm not very good at talking to people I don't know, but 'twas
fun nonetheless.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Sep 09 21:02:59 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: Analogies
Love and marriage don't always go together like a horse and carriage -- people
being people there's always a fair chance that you'll end up with a pile of
horse poo and no transport -- but they seemed as well-matched as Lucy and Dan
yesterday as we gathered at the Royal Cambridge Hotel for their wedding. (Lucy
and Dan's, that is; I wasn't aware of any equine nuptials.)
It was a lovely day. The ceremony was short and sweet, with the right mix of
the serious and the silly, and is probably the first time a wedding ceremony
has had both `Sweet Dreams' and the `Blake's 7' theme played at it. Photos
outside on the steps, with lots of bubbles, and then a bit of gentle mingling
before dinner. Balloon animals -- I successfully made a purple sausage dog --
frolicked between courses, and a frog chorus of cakes peered hopefully from the
table in the corner. (Their hopes were dashed later when we ate them.)
There were speeches, funny, nervous, emotional, and happy. There were games,
too, and the subject of this entry was one of them: `If they were a <foo>, what
kind of <foo> would they be?'. Charles toddled around happily with balloons
while fanf and Bene't constructed double-ended balloon lightsabres.
As usual for weddings there were plenty of conversations too, oiled with plenty
of alcohol, and food for thought for me. But never sad thoughts: I had a
wonderful day and went to bed tired and happy. I hope the same was true for
Dan and Lucy.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Sep 11 12:14:56 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: The eary bird
I can understand having a `Love and Marriage' earworm from my last entry. What
I can't understand is the way it keeps morphing into `I Wanna Be Your Drill
Instructor'.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Sep 19 16:42:04 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: A drama out of a crisis
One of my machines here at work crashed yesterday. I was the only one who
noticed, as my network is fairly robust in the face of such things. The reason
this is interesting at all is because to rebuild the failed machine I'm
following my disaster recovery plan.
It's very useful, because I took the effort to write down exactly what I needed
to do to rebuild this sort of computer. Now I can follow my own instructions
and get things back without much effort. However, this makes me wonder: does
following something called a `Disaster Recovery Plan' inflate the importance of
minor problems in one's mind? Conversely, does following such a plan on a
semi-regular basis make one less likely to treat a _real_ IT disaster with the
seriousness it deserves?
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Sep 25 23:14:06 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: Comparisons
I know the person who used to do my job, and we get on quite well. As you'd
expect, I come across traces of what he did in the job before he moved to a
different department. Some of the time I'm impressed, some of the time I'm
not, and I get to see where my skills are weaker and stronger. It's
interesting. One area where I think I'm not as good is politics, and in
particular the aspect of it that relies on keeping a level head. I let people
get under my skin somehow, making me both angry and worried, and I end up
feeling jittery for quite some time after.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Oct 14 11:46:12 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: Rosalie Margaret Dunn, 1944-2007
My mother took her own life this week, probably on Wednesday. I found her
yesterday after calling the police to help me break into the house. Obviously
I'm very upset, but it's so terribly understandable; since my father's death in
April, she's been less than half a person.
All I can do, all my brother can do, all his girlfriend and their little boy
Drew can do, is remember and carry on.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Oct 18 17:47:18 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: Pieces
Hard to describe the last few days. It's a strange mix of sadness, stress,
boredom, and pub meals as my brother and I worked through all the things that
needed to be done. It was good to have someone to talk to, whether that was
reminiscences or just chatter, but at the end of four days we'd done all we
could from there, so we made our way back to our respective homes: him to Hull,
me to Cambridge. The house in Wellingborough felt weird: empty without Mummy
bustling around tidying up barely-finished mugs of coffee, and the smell of the
place reminded me of Christmas. The funeral will be next week, and then I have
a meeting with the solicitor's to start to sort out the Will. (Actually,
Wills, as Daddy's is still in the legal mangle awaiting a few cranks.)
Because I didn't want the last time I saw her to be as we found her, I went to
the Co-Op's Chapel of Rest to see her in her coffin. They'd cleaned her up and
arranged her and she looked calm; it might not wipe out the other memory, but
it will sit alongside it. My mind kept playing tricks with me, imagining that
she was moving, pressing play as if on a paused life.
She was broken, really. Daddy's death had taken a piece of her away and she
didn't really know what to do after that. As living emotional beings,
consciousness gives us so many ways to break. Now she is beyond metaphor:
she is just matter, and whole.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Oct 25 15:05:37 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: Another funeral
So much of a feeling of deja vu to have another funeral so soon after the last
one. Jerry from next door came with us in the limousine, which was only
fitting as he's been such a good friend and neighbour for the past 15 years or
so. Lots of old friends were there that we'd not seen for a while, and many
people said we should keep in touch. I'll try. Anyway, this is what I said:
Little things make me smile, thinking about Mummy. Once, leaving the
house in the middle of the night for a family holiday, we noticed some
strangers passing on the other side of the street. `Could have done
without them being there,' she said, fretting about a risk of
burglary. We ribbed her for that, but not too hard, and she smiled
about it too.
That was definitely part of her: careful, prudent, a little bit of a
worrier sometimes. But she only worried, really, because she cared.
Whatever scrapes we got into as children, whatever the ups and downs
of Daddy's jobs and later of his illness, she looked after us all,
uncomplainingly. She was tough, strong.
That strength had its rewards. 37 years of marriage, growing
together with a loving husband, watching with pride as we ourselves
grew up, left home, and started our new lives.
So it is with sadness that we say goodbye, but goodbye to a complete
life. She gave us everything, and owes us nothing. We owe her
everything, and we're incredibly fortunate and privileged to remember
her as our mother.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Oct 30 17:41:33 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: Stuff and things
Only thing to report is a lot of catchup. I caught the family stomach bug for
Thursday evening, so spend that night throwing up and the next day recovering.
I was OK by Saturday, so went round to the Gallery for an impromptu roast
dinner. (They only discovered there was a spare portion when they were serving
up, so I drove, thus increasing my carbon guilt. Ben did point out, however,
that I had saved the energy output of cooking something for myself.)
Clock changing meant I woke up early on Sunday, so I got lots done pottering
around the house before going to the Gallery again. As well as Robo Rally, we
watched Verity finish Okami, a delightfully-styled game/story with its roots in
Japanese mythology.
I've been getting back into the swing of things at work by ordering computers
for people and fixing odd little bits around the place. Nothing broke too
badly at work while I was away (either last week or the week before) which
either means that I've done a good job of making the place run itself or that
I'm surplus to requirements. I am assuming the former.
In between I have been sorting through paperwork relating to my mother's
estate. Although most of the details are with the solicitors there are still a
lot of things I need to find and pass on. My brother and I will also need to
empty the house in Wellingborough in the next month or so so that we can put it
up for sale. Thinking about the money I will eventually inherit as a result of
recent events is giving me a certain amount of what I can only characterise as
middle-class guilt. I'm choosing not to let this bother me too much, but if I
end up wittering about money and you find it boring or objectionable please do
let me know and I'll attempt to be less vulgar :-).
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Nov 14 23:20:51 2007]--
From: (S) Go with the boron. (steph)
Subject: Time's arrow
Bits to report, although on the financial front it's been a story of not much
progress while I wait for the solicitors to get a Grant of Probate. Then of
course there's still the matter of emptying my mother's house so that it can be
sold, which feels like an enormous task at the moment. It may be a matter of
just putting stuff into lots of boxes, getting them somewhere else (my
Cambridge loft, for example) and then dealing with the whole shebang later. I
feel bad about not having done more, but I've only really been nibbling at the
edges of the problem so far. Granted, bagging up my mother's clothes to take
to the charity shop is perhaps emotionally a larger part of the exercise than
it is physically, but there's still so much to do and a feeling that it will
never be complete. It reminds me of the way I felt after I broke my arm: it
could surely never work again, and yet it's now mostly fixed and working.
For fireworks on the 5th I went with work folk to Midsummer Common and then to
the Graduate pub for a few drinks. It's nice to do things with people from
work, even if there's always the conflict with the many other groups of friends
I'd otherwise be doing things with.
A week later I aged to 33, and went to the Lucky Star Chinese buffet place next
to the Cineworld with about 20 people from work. I knew it was good because
Bug had her leaving-Cambridge do there, and people seemed to agree. Pleasing
to have a variety of different groups of people at the meal, and that everyone
seemed to enjoy the food and have a good time. I accidentally let on that it
was my birthday while we were paying the bill -- I thought it was safe -- so
the restaurant sang to me.
My home computer's hard drive began to give up the ghost on Tuesday, so I went
the whole hog and replaced the computer and am now typing this on a new machine
from World of Computers. The main thing I'm noticing is just how quiet it is
compared with the roaring squealing monstrosity my old computer. (Of course,
since a computer's identity resides in its filesystems, this is still the same
computer I installed in 1994.)
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Nov 19 12:27:55 2007]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: Short update
After many months, nay years, of thinking vaguely that it might be nice to have
a haircut, I finally did so on Saturday. Sue from work had persuaded me and
this turned into a pleasant afternoon in town with her and Doug (her other
half), starting with waffles at the Cambridge Waffle Company. This is on the
ground floor of the Soul Tree where once there was a job centre. The waffles
are nice, although perhaps a bit pricey, but the restaurant can't spell Corpus
Christi correctly. I'm half-inclined to go in there with a guerrilla tippex
mob to erase the spurious final `e'. O tempora, o mores, etc.
Then there was time for a wander around the new Roberty Sayle in town, taking
the Great Glass Elevator to the top to look out over Emmanuel street from the
sofa department. It's a good view, and I hope Sayles don't mind the gawping
crowds too much!
Anyway, yes, haircut. At Hairy -- I nearly said scary -- Canary, where the
Americal stylist who attended to me asked me what I wanted, coped with my
uncertain umms and ahhs and came up with a suggestion that's definitely a hair
cut but also still slightly long. The whole salon experience is a far cry from
`Haircuts while U wait' in Finedon; even just cutting a bit of hair off is done
carefully and delicately with complicated clips and stuff.
Thence to the pub for a few pints with Sue and Doug. It's nice just to sit and
chatter with a couple of people. Big gatherings are good too, of course, but
the conversation is harder.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Nov 25 01:05:06 2007]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: Partly party
Today was more sorting of stuff at the house in Wellingborough with help from
Giles and Sara and not too much hindrance from Drew. We had a pub lunch and
spent a little while in the giant squishy clambering area they have on one side
of the pub. He's lovely, and it helps alleviate some of the oppressiveness of
the whole thing.
Party this evening to celebrate Ian and Clare's house. Lots of nice people
there, and I coped well for a while, but I was a bit distracted, vague,
preoccupied... Lots of people were nice and huggy, but in the end I came back
home a little after midnight.
It's strange. I don't _feel_ particularly depressed by recent events, but
there's definitely a different kind of feeling from the usual depression with
which I can by various means mostly deal. Or alternatively it's just an excuse
and this is just the run-of-the-mill experience of me getting mopey at parties.
I dunno. You'd think that the number of people around to hug me and say I'm
wonderful would make me chirpier.
Bedtime now, which is probably just as well.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Dec 07 10:03:10 2007]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: The soft matter dance
Yesterday was work's `Theme Day', a one-day conference on a particular theme
relevant to everyone in the research sector. This year's theme was `Resources
and Techniques' so stood a chance of being both relevant and useful to me as a
way of finding out more about what equipment is available around the place and
what it's used for. I now know how Confocal Microscopy [1] and Ellipsometry
[2] work, which is all quite shiny. Since computers are also a resource, I
gave my own half-hour whiffle about computing, which seemed to go down fairly
well.
In the evening was work's Christmas Party, in the form of a buffet and then a
ceilidh. Lots of energetic dancing, very good fun, very nice people.
[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Confocal_microscopy
[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ellipsometry
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Dec 09 00:47:57 2007]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: The trouble with nice people
...is that I really have no idea how one is supposed to express interest in
someone.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Dec 17 00:11:50 2007]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: Feeling the cold
You don't feel it when you're out there; it's only when you come inside and
your fingers are numb. Then there's a prickling as sensation returns: sharp
warm pains in your thumbs. It's the sort of feeling I half don't want to go,
like the metal taste of danger or the sudden gulp of fear, but then it passes
and it's hard to remember that it's cold out there.
Subject: Feeling the past
My Monochrome account from which I still write this diary is over eleven years
old. It takes me back to days which now seem impossibly distant: sitting in an
Oxford computer room with Lanfear, creating this diary; the `glory days' of No
Better Idea gatherings in Simon's room; Amf and his many mysteries; coming to
the Gallery for the first time. It makes me a bit tearful to think of it all
-- nostalgia does that to me -- but this place is where large parts of my life
were built, for both better and worse.
Subject: Feeling the future
I don't know what the future feels like. There'll be a Christmas unlike any
other that has gone before, and in a way that terrifies me even while I'm
looking forward to it. There'll be 2008 with my parents' estates gradually
being dealt with and hopefully I will buy a house. And then there's my heart,
which seems to have started paying attention again, even though my mind has
very little idea what I actually want. I have lots of good friends who care
about me and about whom I care, in whose successes and failures I can share,
and yet there is something undefinable missing.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Dec 21 18:17:41 2007]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: eMOTion
That's a relief. I got around to checking my car's documentation today, aware
that its tax and MOT would soon be due. Once I'd found the paperwork it turned
out that the MOT had expired yesterday, which is rather alarming when you
consider that I'm planning to drive to Hull on Sunday. Fortunately EMG Motor
Group were able to book me in for a test tomorrow morning, and so I dropped the
car off with them this afternoon. Then, while doing a bit more Christmas
shopping, I got a phone call telling me that it had passed. Hurrah, and extra
bonus points for efficiency.
I get a bit gooey about my little car sometimes. I'm not sure why. Little
Car!
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Dec 22 23:16:39 2007]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: No technological breakdown
So, it's nearly time to be off for Christmas. Presents are wrapped, car is
MOTed, stuff is packed, and I have maps and emergency supplies in case of
sudden meteorological infelicity. It's all quite an adventure, really.
This evening was Debbie's Solstice Party: a little dinner with her, her
parents, her friend Maggie, and Young-Zoon and Lech from BSS. Curry, mulled
wine, and conversation were lovely. Other people's parents remind me of mine,
of course, and I wonder whether I talk too much about my parents, or whether
it's healthy because it mixes the real fact of their deaths with the happier
memories.
It was a good evening, anyway, and that's what matters.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Dec 30 22:58:22 2007]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: Motorway Man
The little symbol for motorways in the UK:
A
/-/-\-\
/ \
...has always looked like a little man to me, and I've seen a fair bit of him
over the Christmas period. First there was the drive from Cambridge to Hull on
the 23rd December, which was unremarkable except for its length and the
occasional patches of fog. That got me to my brother's house in Hessle where I
spent Christmas with him, his fiancee Sara, and my little nephew Drew. It was
utterly marvellous, and Drew in particular seems to have decided that I was the
favourite. `Hello-Owen' / `Hello Drew' with him chiming in on the `Drew'
became became a bit of a routine, as did being dragged from my chair to help
him play with the tub of Duplo I bought him. `Hello bricks!' `Building!'
(You may have to excuse occasional lapses into Drewspeak for a while. Signs of
this include greeting inanimate objects and saying `all gone'...)
There was plenty of `doklit' at `imas' leading to a slightly hyper little boy,
but if he can't be spoiled one day in 365, when can he? It was of course also
good to see Giles and Sara, and Sara put on a marvellous Christmas lunch for
us. I was made to feel very much at home and although it was a different
Christmas, it was definitely still Christmas.
On Friday I drove down from Hull to Rode in Somerset, where Peter and Carole
Travis, long-time friends of our family, live, and where large parts of the
Travis clan descended for Christmas. Fortunately they have a huge house that
can swallow vast numbers without being crowded, and for extra coolness they
have a detached stable block and two secret bathrooms. There was another
2-year-old to play with, a Chinese-themed murder mystery (I was Wan Ton Willy,
jovial mobster), a trip to see `The Golden Compass' in Bath, and a visit to the
Roman Baths in, er, Bath.
Since we were running late in our trip to Bath, and we still needed to eat, I
stayed in Rode for a late lunch / early dinner before setting out on a night
drive back to Cambridge. Apart from the initial stretch getting onto the M4 it
was utterly straightforward compared to the previous two journeys.
So now I'm back in Cambridge in time for New Year's Eve.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Jan 02 00:01:38 2008]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: The End of the Year Show
In years where the things that happen are humdrum angst, I have plenty to say
in these posts. This year is so easy to summarise that this post will be
short: I was burgled, broke my arm, and lost both parents.
`A long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last.'
Without a shadow of a doubt. Happy New Year.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Jan 06 23:17:28 2008]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: Contemplating the coalface
Back to work tomorrow, with the same challenges, problems, and arguments. It
seems rather daunting after a fortnight of holiday, and perhaps I'm a little
more depressed than usual, which can't help. On the other hand, it'll be good
to see all the people I know at work, and they'll be yet another bunch of
people to enthuse at about Drew.
I should be more positive, but I've still got so much to do to sort out my
mother's estate and it's preying on my mind a little. I think about both my
parents every day, and I can't help being reminded: I took the calendar down
last week that was one of my presents from them for Christmas 2006; it was
always Daddy's insistence that the tree and decorations should come down on the
6th, so they are now all back in their boxes; and so much else comes to mind as
an instinctive `I must tell...' followed by the realisation that they're not
there any more.
Not to say that I don't think of things I want to tell lots of my good friends,
but it's not the same somehow.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Jan 20 22:57:52 2008]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: All in a row
It's been a good weekend. It started with a brief spell in the pub to
celebrate (or bemoan) a work friend's leaving for America to be a patent
lawyer, and then continued with a pleasant evening at the Gallery watching
1960s TV. An email then conveniently arranged the rest of my weekend, as Mary
was going to be in town on Saturday evening.
Saturday was thus a relaxing day of pottering and getting small things done
around the house before going over to the Gallery for a lovely filling dinner
with the Gallerians and Mary. None of us had seen her for quite a while, since
she's been buried under that-which-shall-not-be-named, so there was a lot of
catching up amidst the usual talking of gibberish and a couple of episodes of
`The Big Knights'. One eipsode was subtitled in Swedish, which helped.
From there Mary and I walked into town and nattered about dreams, books, and
drugs in the ADC bar (which pleasingly has real ale on tap) before heading in
for the late improv show. This was by Scratch Impro, and was a good mix of the
very funny and that `how do they manage that?' feeling that good improvised
comedy always gives me. Highlights for me included an improvised reenactment
of an audience couple's first meeting, a spooky-funny tale from three spirits
of how they died in Lightbulb Town, and an amazingly synergistic (eek, what a
word) act where one performer played another's arms.
It wasn't raining when we got out, so we walked back to mine in Chesterton and
nattered about trains and physics for a while before bed. Something I like
about having a house rather larger than I strictly _need_ is that I do have a
spare bed to put people up in if I want to. And then this morning I had the
car power to be able to deliver Mary back to the station for her train. Three
cheers for friends and convenience :-)
On the minus side I'm really quite sleepy now, so perhaps I should go to bed...
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Jan 26 13:36:38 2008]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: Worrying wording
After being adjourned for tests to determine the official cause of death, the
inquest into my mother's death will take place this Thursday morning, and today
I received a letter telling me about this. As expected, they want me to
attend, but it's not phrased that way. It's not `you have been requested' or
`required', `summoned', or `instructed' to attend: the wording was that I had
been `warned'.
Now I'm sure there's nothing in it and it's just some old form of wording --
the institution of the Coroner is one of the oldest in the land -- but it seems
a poor choice of word in the circumstances; in my mind one is `warned' if one
has done something wrong...
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Jan 27 21:34:07 2008]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: Time in motion
I'll try most things that sound like they might be interesting at least once,
so Mary's invitation to see some contemporary dance at the ADC was an
opportunity to broaden my horizons a little. After a good while chatting at
the Maypole we ventured then yesterday evening to see `Perspectives' which is
the outcome of the Contemporary Dance Workshop. Not knowing quite what to
expect I was pleasantly surprised.
It was a collection of small pieces by different groups of dancers, with a wide
range of styles, and not all of it worked for me. But the pieces which did,
and which made the biggest impression on me, were those where the dance and the
music became as one: neither distracted from the other but instead each
enhanced the other. The other thing I thought was how "accessible" the whole
thing was. I did start out looking earnestly for meanings and interpretations,
but I quickly settled into just enjoying it for itself and what it just evoked
in me in the way of emotions. Anyway, enough blather: it was a good evening
and I shall try to see something more professional in the same vein at some
point.
Afterwards I walked with Mary back to the station, and confused myself in the
backstreets between Parker's Piece and the station. Fortunately it wasn't too
bad a confusion to make Mary late for her train, even though looking at the map
today I can see why the route wasn't quite the right one...
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Jan 30 10:34:42 2008]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: (W)hole
There's a first time for everything. Today it was being hit by a motor vehicle
while on a bicycle. I was cycling to work along Madingley Road when a small
van turned out of Storey's Way just as I was opposite it. The van turned more
widely than one might expect and although I braked and moved to try and avoid a
collision, it wedged me against the kerb and knocked me off.
I wasn't hurt beyond a scraped knee and an unfortunate hole in my trousers.
The bicycle seemed OK except for the front brakes which had become wedged -- I
have since realigned them and they seem OK -- and the van driver stopped to
check I was OK. He wasn't aggressive or defensive, was concerned for my
welfare, and it was as pleasant an experience as accidental injury at someone
else's hands can be.
I shall put it down to experience, be more vigilant at that junction (both as a
driver and a cyclist), and buy new trousers. I hope the van driver will do the
same.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Jan 30 21:46:20 2008]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: Inn Quest
It's the inquest into my mother's death tomorrow. I expect it won't take long
and that the evidence I'll be asked for will be minimal, but it may be a bit
emotional. Whatever the case, I may want a drink or two tomorrow evening.
Wish me luck.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Jan 31 22:23:55 2008]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: Official
For the record, the Coroner returned a verdict of suicide. So that's that part
over and done with.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Feb 06 10:57:15 2008]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: Saturday
It's good to be busy, and even better to be busy with things that are
unequivocally leisure, so Saturday was a good day. First, during the day,
there was a cycling trip with Ben. We took the train to Littleport and cycled
from there to the closed station at Denver and thence to the defunct station at
Middleton Towers. It was cold and windy, but the wind was mostly at our backs
and it was only when we stopped for lunch that I really felt the cold; it's
amazing how good the body is at keeping warm when you're exercising!
A lovely cup of tea (and a sit down) at King's Lynn at the end of the 30-mile
ride was just the ticket, and then it was back to Cambridge.
The evening was spent with Mary and Becky at the Arts Cinema, there to see
`Sweeney Todd'. It was fun, though it lacked the memorable set-piece songs
that you'd expect from a musical. Very dark, very washed-out, very Tim Burton.
Helena Bonham-Carter and Alan Rickman were particularly wonderful, and Johnny
Depp doesn't do too badly at the whole singing thing either even though his
`English' accent is comparable to Dick Van Dyke at his best.
Afterwards we sought food and ended up in Rainbow (after a `no this is too
loud' detour via the Regal whose bouncers acknowledged Mary's youthful looks by
asking her for ID) for some dinner and conversation until a little after 10.
Mary then went off to the station to catch her train home, and Becky and I
headed off to the Wake.
Ah, yes, the Jomsborg Wake for the Old Year. An all-night party followed by a
dawn ceremony on Castle Mound. I've been to a fair few in my time, and it's a
fantastic feeling to make it through the night and then wander home in the
early hours of a cold Cambridge morning. I don't have the energy I once did,
though, and this time there were so many fresh faces (possibly even
undergraduates!) that I didn't feel at all bad about leaving them to it in the
sure knowledge that the Wake would be woken and the sun would be wound up the
next morning. Nevertheless I stayed for a few enjoyable rounds of `Taboo'
before heading off to my nice cosy bed.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Feb 08 23:20:48 2008]--
From: (S) facile plumbum (steph)
Subject: Do you remember the first time?
Tomorrow I'm picking up the last of the stuff I want from my parents' house in
Wellingborough. In a way it's a huge relief: it's more or less the last
important step I need to do before the solicitors can get on with selling it
and what remains of its contents. On the other hand, if all goes well it will
be the last time I'll set foot in a place with has been home, or home-from-
home, for over 15 years. It's so final that I don't exactly know what to think
about it, beyond the inevitable sadness and perhaps a last wander through the
rooms.
Moving in, A-levels, my brother's rebellious teenage years, the half-time of
University, years of Christmases (and my duty to assemble the tree), the last
Christmas in 2006, panicked journeys down by train as my father's cancer got
worse, the funeral, visits to my mother. Finding her, and the days that
followed that; the funeral, and then in the months since her death the
relentless ineffectual sorting.
Both times my family moved house I was resistant, preferring not to change.
Now I'm glad of the change, glad to make that generation's final move: into my
memories.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Feb 12 00:11:06 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Boxed in
After the weekend's trip to Wellingborough I am now surrounded by boxes of
books. The challenge is storing them somewhere out of the way until I move
somewhere more capacious!
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Feb 12 00:28:06 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Don't kick the elephants
Notices have been bothering me recently, for a variety of reasons. Let's start
with a simple example:
NO SMOKING
This is almost the simplest form, and eschews all notions of polite request.
Some who erect signs feel that they should be rather more polite about the
whole thing, so we get things like:
Please drive carefully
So far, so good. But a variation on the theme is:
Thank you for not smoking
This irks me. It assumes the reader has obeyed an implicit request not to
smoke and thanks them. I don't like signs assuming they know my behaviour, and
it seems inelegant for a sign to thank readers for something they may not
actually have done. Perhaps we need electronic signs which detect compliant
behaviour and only thank compliant readers, while castigating offenders with a
different message. `Sincerest disapproval for smoking', perhaps.
By far the most annoying style of request I've witnessed recently, though, is
this:
Polite Notice
Do not park in front of these gates
The sign writer has seemingly twigged that it's desirable to be polite, but
thinks that merely claiming that a notice is polite makes it so.
Have others seen more interesting examples?
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Feb 13 16:56:12 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Something in the air
There's something in the air. Oh, yes, it's water. It seems like ages since
we've had decent fog so although this morning's cycle into work left me
slightly soggy I didn't mind; it's nice to have some proper winter weather for
a change! When I was at school and forced to stand on a football field for 90
minutes -- I was always in defence and my primary motivation was to avoid being
hit by the ball -- I used to like it when it was foggy. I could stand there
and imagine that the rest of the world had passed beyond a white curtain and I
was completely alone.
Mm, I like it. There's something in the air.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Feb 16 22:21:44 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: in extremis
Bloody hell it's cold out there. My fingers are just recovering from a trip to
Tesco and back for milk and bread. Perhaps it would have been better to wait
until tomorrow morning to get supplies, but having to lug myself to the shop
first thing on a Sunday before breakfast appeals not at all.
During the day the temperature wasn't too bad. I was out on the railway during
the afternoon, picking up photos of Wickham Market station in Suffolk, and it
was warm apart from a chilly breeze. As soon as the light went it got
noticeable colder, even on the train! I wonder if the Cam will freeze.
(That's two posts in a row about the weather. I must be becoming a
stereotypical Englishman.)
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Feb 19 21:28:21 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: The key insight
This morning I surrendered my set of keys to my parents' house. I expected
that getting stuff out of the house would be very much an instant emotional
experience, but finally arranging that I _couldn't_ ever go back there even if
I wanted to has been harder in a way. I think I've been subsconsciously
putting it off for the past week, reluctant on some level to take the step that
closes the door to `one last look' and `I must just get _that_'. It's done
now, anyway. I can tell because I keep getting a frisson of worry as I feel in
my left pocket and find the keys aren't there.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Feb 21 22:04:03 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Some like it hot
Or at least, some like more heat than I usually bother with; Mary came round
last night for dinner, so I left the heating on with the result that the living
room was toasty warm this morning! No complaints here, mind, particularly
since it was a lovely evening with lovely company _and_ my vegetarian crumble
turned out edible.
(Actually, more than just edible; I'd even go as far as `nice'. Possibly the
crumble needed to be cooked on top for longer or mixed better to make it more
crumbly, but still, yay. I am suffused with the warm glow of success.)
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Feb 24 23:59:48 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: and wiser?
I fairly often go to the pub with people from work. My job is the most social
I've had, and it's good to let my hair down with a different set of people once
in a while, and almost certainly drink more than I usually would. Friday was
to be a `BSS boogie', starting with cocktails at Debbie's and moving on
somewhere afterwards. The somewhere, slightly unfortunately, turned out to be
Cindy's. (Actually, currently it's `Ballare'; I don't think it's officially
been Cindy's while I've been in Cambridge!)
I didn't have a _bad_ time, but I quickly realised that I recognised nearly
none of the music, and then when they did play something I recognised it was
drowned in added doof-doof. And then the track was cut short in favour of
another... It made me feel old, to be honest, as well as a bit of a fish out
of water. Still, I danced a bit while there was a beat consistent enough for
long enough to dance to, and danced rather more vaguely when the music decided
to lose all sense of timing entirely.
Also, and I've noticed this before, there's something about mainstream clubs
that's unpleasant for me, who have largely only frequented goth nights: it's
the lack of etiquette. Bump into someone (accidentally, before the slamdancers
start comparing bruises) in a goth club and you'll probably find yourself
exchanging concerned apologies. At Cindy's you'll get a dirty look at best.
What makes for this difference? I don't really know, but as trying most things
once goes it was a fairly harmless, and indeed mostly fun experiment. I just
probably won't bother seeing if my results are repeatable.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Feb 26 00:17:32 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: I fought the law
I'm unhappy, and I'm unhappy because of my job. Not because of the doing of
it, but because of the politics. I'd hoped from the beginning to avoid the
politics -- I'd been forewarned of their problems -- but it was impossible to
avoid them if I wanted to do a good job, and because I love the rest of the job
I dearly wanted, and still want, to do that.
But sometimes the idiocy of the place, which must surely be infectious to
otherwise good people, makes the effort seem so futile and unending that it
makes me angry, and then it makes me depressed, and I wonder whether this is a
job I can be in if it continues like this. You cannot improve anything
by imposing pointless bureaucracy and make-work, and you cannot win
anyone around to doing things right by threatening them.
*sigh* Perhaps it will all seem better tomorrow.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Mar 06 12:08:00 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Swearing
After delaying rather more than I should have, I telephoned the solicitors
today to put my mind at rest about a few things. They have received the keys
to my parents' house, and are arranging for all the right people to come and
visit the house to sell first its contents and then the house itself. Also,
it's time for me to go to Wellingborough and swear an oath. Apart from the
inquest, I've not sworn an oath before in my life. I doubt this will be any
more exciting...
Yesterday I got two people's experimental setups working, after only a small
amount of swearing and gnashing of teeth. It was all kind of worthwhile when I
walked past their labs later and saw the `DO NOT ENTER - LASER ON' lights lit:
they were doing experimental work, and I helped to make it happen.
I was less successful later in the kitchen. I followed a recipe to make
shortbread, but the promised doughy breadcrumby mixture I was supposed to
produce failed to be doughy so couldn't be formed into anything that could be
cooked. I ended up having to throw the whole floury mess away. I'm not sure
what went wrong; I think the quantities were right, so perhaps my butter was
too cold or something. Hmm.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Mar 10 23:23:21 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Attractive opposites
If you turn up for an interview, they might not turn you down.
If you sit down, you may get backache if you don't sit up.
If you put in for a pay rise, you'll be put out if you don't get it.
If you can successfully drive off, you'll be told to drive on.
If you get on with someone, you might want to get off with them.
(and, which is more, you'll be a preposition...)
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Mar 10 23:59:18 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Poland and Cheltenham
Playing catchup in this diary, but that's much more excusable when life has
been as full as it has been!
I didn't actually make it to Poland, but the Zebra provided the next best thing
as Mary and I went there on Thursday evening for a very tasty platter of
assorted Polish dishes. They've started doing a speciality Polish menu -- they
still do pizzas for those who hanker for a different part of Europe -- which
was all of filling, tasty, and good value. Since I already sound like an
advert, you can all visit http://www.zebracambridge.com/ . We met there at six
and were almost the only people there for a good part of the next couple of
hours. Strange that it was so quiet -- I hope it doesn't bode ill for the pub
-- but on the other hand it was nice to be able to hear ourselves think so
easily!
Thence to the Vue for `Be Kind Rewind', which is a Jack Black film constructed
around the gimmick of comically cheap remakes of famous films. The plot point
that causes this to be necessary is extremely silly and fits with the idea that
the whole thing is a comedy, but it's when the framing story meets the gimmick
that it becomes something slightly different: a kind of good-natured hymn to
community, folk history, and an `old fashioned movie making' that almost
certainly never actually existed. Oh, and did I mention that it's very silly?
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=sweded
The weekend was spent in Cheltenham celebrating Kate's birthday. Ross gave
Peter Corbett and me a lift there, where (as well as Kate, obviously!) we met
up with Art, Nigel, and Dave the Dog. There was much alcohol, pizza,
photographing of Dave (who still has his Winter coat on so is even fluffier a
fluffy dog than usual), and generally catching up and nattering. A good
party, and one that reminds me that I should be more proactive about keeping in
touch with people!
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Mar 12 16:22:05 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Authentic OSD
I've just come back from giving a talk in town to various University Computer
Officers about how I arrange things at work. In particular, how I have my Unix
machines configured to authenticate users against Windows Active Directory so
that a user can walk up to a Unix computer or a Windows computer, use the same
username and password, and see the same files.
I think it went well, but it's interesting how much less nervous I am about
speaking in public these days. The pre-talk nerves seem to have been replaced
with a post-talk feeling of slight unease: was I interesting enough, did I say
something useful, or have I made a fool of myself in public. It's probably
better this way around; it suggests that (at least in this respect) I'm not
letting nerves stop me from doing things...
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Mar 15 22:23:59 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Three heads are better than one
After giving my talk on Wednesday about authentication on Windows and Unix
systems, it seemed a little embarrassing that for one useful thing I spoke
about you had to use a third-party hacked version of PuTTY rather than the
genuine article. That thing was Kerberos. Apart from being a mythical
three-headed dog, Kerberos is a way of providing single sign-on, so once you've
typed your password once you don't need to type it again to connect to other
services or computers. (Yes, I simplify lots.)
I had hoped that the talk on Wednesday would act as a deadline I could work to,
but I sailed instead right through until I sat down again with the PuTTY code
today and made it work. There are still a number of rough edges to file off,
but it's basically there. This makes me feel good for a number of reasons:
firstly as a face-saving exercise, secondly because it suggests I still have
the brain in me to do this sort of thing, but mainly because involvement in
PuTTY to whatever extent is probably the most useful thing I do for the largest
number of people in the world. It's nice to get that collection of fuzzy
glows.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Mar 24 23:26:10 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: City of the Glass Fish
Another year, another Eastercon. This year saw the return to the Radisson
Edwardian hotel in Heathrow, which hosted Eastercon in 1996. By coincidence,
that year was one in which I missed Eastercon, so the hotel's blasphemous
geometries were new to me: its maze of twisty passages was confusing enough,
but add unexpected pillars, mezzanine floors, and an atrium of underlit
walkways and ponds full of glass fish, and you have a surreal experience for
all the family!
So I got there on Friday and hit the ground running. Heinlein, suspension of
disbelief, and Doctor Who panels propped the afternoon up against drinks in the
Real Ale Bar. (Dave Lally was to be doing a talk with clips about bad SF
movies, but was thwarted by the hotel's lack of video technology so we just had
the talk. This may have been an improvement.)
On Saturday we used mythology in fantasy, and China Mieville held forth at
erudite and amusing length about the value of intelligent reading and analysis
of SF. A panel about Fantastic London suggested -- I have no idea how true
this is -- that the lamp posts in the Mall can be unscrewed to convert it into
an emergency airstrip.
Sunday started with a remarkably non-contentious panel about books on the web.
I remember Christopher Priest worrying at length in 2004 about exactly this,
and in the intervening years he seems to have relaxed about it; the panel
(including folk from Tor and Gollancz) seemed unanimous that electronic
delivery of books was coming if not already here, that trying to stop people
sharing and copying books was a mug's game, and that a way would be worked out
_somehow_ of getting authors paid for their work. Later, Charles Stross
nattered pleasantly for a while, the Not the Clarke Awards panel plumped for
Baxter's `The H-Bomb Girl', and a panel discussed the appeal of Lovecraft. See
comments above about the hotel's blasphemous geometries.
Mitch Benn entertained us in the evening, and then after that I managed to
catch the tail end of a discussion of the physics and ecology of the Clanger
planet. Then beer, and some more beer.
And I didn't have a hangover this morning, so made it to a few panels before
finally deciding that I'd had a convention and it was time to go home.
I like fandom, and I like conventions, and as ever my thought after a con is
that I should keep more in touch with both. Who knows, with yet another
convention of our own to promote, perhaps I will?
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Mar 29 00:25:43 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Stressed
It's only been a four-day week, but I'm glad it's over. At points over the
past two days I've been either angry enough I could hit something or despairing
enough to leave the lab in search of emergency hug supplies. It's the old
chestnut: factors affecting my users that I can't control and that I'm not
responsible for, while those actually responsible are impossible to find and
unresponsive...
There's been other stuff as well, particularly wrangling overcomplicated
`enterprise' software, getting sucked into strange arguments on LiveJournal
(yes, I should know better), and headaches. It all rolls into one. A new week
will be very welcome.
On the plus side, I went to the UL on Wednesday to help Jon Jarrett pick out a
word from an Arabic text and actually did so! Just think: my extremely rusty
degree, being of some use to scholarship! Who'da thunk it?
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Apr 06 23:53:17 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Crusts of the weekloaf
It's been a mixed weekend. Friday evening was pub night with people from work,
which was fun even if I was a bit tired and so occasionally settled into the
middle distance.
On Saturday afternoon I met Mary at the station (complete with comedy attempts
at cross-ticket-barrier coffee ordering) and we wandered over to Kettle's Yard
for their current exhibition on the interrelationship between art and science:
scientific things that look arty, arty things that look scientific, and a set
of blocks of cheese attached to the wall and called `One For the Road'. (They
probably weren't cheese but were the same colour as a strange fudge cheese I
once tasted.) Through rain and hail we walked thence back to Chesterton to
enjoy dinner at the `River View' Indian restaurant in the Penny Ferry, the pub
that used to be the Pike & Eel. The food was very nice, if definitely on the
mild side, so I may try something a step or two up the scale next time.
We were the first to arrive at Lucy's 30th birthday party in the evening,
although we met Bug outside as we briefly got lost trying to find Lucy and
Dan's new house. There was then a fun and silly party featuring modelling
balloons, kids' TV show themes, and a theremin. Hooray for all that.
Sunday was OK, but let down at the end by transport. Because I like to use my
car at least once a week to make sure it still works, I drove to the Gallery,
but when I left to go home the car wouldn't start. I left it there and walked
home, but if it still seems unhappy tomorrow I shall have to call for the AA's
help. I should really be grateful that it failed today rather than in a week's
time when I'm hoping to visit my brother up in Hull!
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Apr 08 18:09:37 2008]--
From: (S) Not nervous. Just cautious. (steph)
Subject: Time and space
It turned out that my car was merely short of juju, so Ross came along with a
box of juju and then it started. I restocked its juju supplies further by
driving along the A14 for a bit.
In other news, yesterday was the anniversary of my father's death. In some
cultures, the one year mark is the point at which you stop officially mourning,
but of course in my case I'd still be mourning until October. It's a strange
feeling to get used to: there's not a day that I don't think about my parents,
but at the same time I'm able to get on with life with pleasure at the good
things and sadness at the bad in much the same measure as before.
I saw the estate agents' details for my parents' house at the weekend. It's
been emptied now and looks so much larger than it did when it was a home. Now
it's just a house, and I feel curiously detached from it.
---------------------------------------------------[Thu Apr 10 14:50:57 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: You can do such a lot with a chickpea
Last night I took the train to Ely to visit Mary, whose new pressure cooker had
inspired her to houmous, which in turn meant a very tasty meal for me. Eating
very nice paprika-topped houmous with warm pitta bread and dukkah reminded me
of dinners at Ra'id's cafe in Birzeit when I was there. Then there was a
lovely lamb stew with vegetables and rice with added almond flakes and dates.
Mary walked with me along the river back to the station, looking (in vain, as
it turned out) for a duck standing on one leg, which it's alleged they do. It
seems unwise, not to say unstable. There was also a new art installation on
the riverside called `Sluice' which glows LED-blue and has displays which
reflect the activity of Denver sluice. Apparently it's not universally
popular, but it's the sort of public art I like: not just pretty, but
_interesting_.
A lovely relaxing evening with good company. My brain's a bit confused today
because yesterday felt so much like Friday. Ah well, it's Friday tomorrow.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Apr 14 17:04:29 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: To Hull and Back
It's a long journey, but worth it to see my little nephew Drew, who continues
both to grow and to be amazingly cute and even more amazingly full of energy.
The trip up (A14, M1, M18, M62, A63) was fairly uneventful and only took a bit
over three hours, and as soon as I came in through the front door, there was
Drew.
At Christmas he'd been a bit shy on first seeing me, but there was none of that
this time. For good measure, he pulled out the tub of bricks and looked
expectantly at me :-). There was some bad news as well, as my brother has been
made redundant. Given loans and mortgages are his line of work, he's
definitely victim of the fabled credit crunch, but he's hopeful of being able
to find a new job quite soon, and indeed has already got an interview lined up!
Anyway, Giles, Sara, Drew and I had a lovely afternoon and after Drew had gone
up to bed we were joined by Giles and Sara's friend Fiona for a lovely (and
rather alcoholic) evening of chatter.
The journey back on Sunday afternoon was rather less good. The M1 ground to
7mph near the junction with the A14, so I was trundling along for quite a
while. Still, I made it back to Cambridge in time to order Chinese at the
Gallery, so I mustn't grumble too much.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Apr 20 00:12:00 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: Another week
It's not been a particularly eventful week, he says as he recalls several
events worthy of note. On Thursday I went to the pub with people from work,
which was a lovely evening apart from at the end, where one of the staff
(manageress?) at the Avery was very rude to us in the way she asked us to drink
up and leave. I appreciate pubs' right to close when they want, but she was
focusing on our table while ignoring other tables where people were still
drinking, and leaning on a pillar next to our table interjecting sarcastic
comments into our conversation. It was as if for some reason our group was
being singled out for attention. I'm tempted to write to complain but I'm not
entirely sure to whom.
I finished `Senor Vivo and the Coca Lord' the other day. It's the second in
Louis de Bernieres' magical-realist trilogy about the doings in a fictional
Latin-American country. I enjoyed it a lot, and I still love the drily witty
way he writes, and it was lovely to see some of the characters from the first
book reappear as `bit-part' players, but I don't think it's as good a book as
`The War of Don Emmanuel's Nether Parts'. In that book, the multi-threaded
stories drew together in a way that felt _right_, but in this one they didn't
seem as well connected somehow. I'll still be reading the third book, though!
Today was Gareth and Verity's engagement party. A lot of people weren't there
whom I'd hoped to see, but plenty of good people turned up nevertheless: Sion
and Ingi (first tine I'd seen them since their wedding), Vicky S, the Finches
(including Charles, who was a bit shy at first but later consented to my help
climbing up and down the stairs), Richard and Louise, Chris, Becky, James A and
James R. Verity had overcatered splendidly, of course.
And so to bed.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Apr 23 16:16:50 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: iPackaging
I've just unpacked a new MacBook for a new staff member at work. In order from
the outside in, the packaging went:
Cardboard box, containing:
Foam inserts, enclosing:
Plastic bag, containing:
Cardboard box, containing:
Foam insert, covering:
Foam-plastic bag, containing: Macintosh!
It's all very pretty, all very elegant and designed, but might it be, you know,
just a touch wasteful?
---------------------------------------------------[Tue May 06 22:20:53 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: Damage
It has been an `oh good grief' day.
In preparation for next week's holiday with Ben, which might be expected to
involve some cycling, I went into Townsend's this morning to buy new cogs and
chain for my bike since the former were worn and the latter stretched. So far,
so good, but then it came to be time to fit them this evening. With Ben's help
I took the chain off, and then removed the rear wheel. I removed the
quick-release skewer, and *plink* half the axle came out with it. My axle had,
at some unknown point in the past, snapped in two, and for all the time after
that had been relying on the skewer for structural integrity. Ben tells me he
has never encountered this before, which is either very alarming or a relief.
In any case it put paid to our bike fettling, and we will reconvene tomorrow
once I've been to Townsend's to get a new axle... Oh good grief.
At work, it's Pot Luck Lunch day tomorrow, where all who attend bring something
along, hopefully something home-cooked to share. I'm making quiche, so made
pastry. I started to wash up and gashed my thumb on the food processor blade.
Oh good grief.
Later, when getting some clingfilm out of the drawer, the drawer fell out onto
its knob, which promptly broke. Argh, and oh, good grief.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri May 09 23:49:48 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: The rest of the week show
The bike was mended, the quiche was a success, my thumb has largely healed, and
I'm off on my holidays tomorrow. It should be good weather for it, if
Cambridge's weather is anything to go by: warm and breezy. Although I confess
that the breeze was a slight hindrance when picnicking on Parker's Piece
yesterday!
---------------------------------------------------[Sun May 18 23:30:05 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: FOSS ROVER 8IN 15 DAYS
Or, what I did on my holidays. That, in case you couldn't work it out, is the
name of the rail ticket Ben and I have used to explore the area around Bristol
and collect its stations. It stands for `Freedom of Severn and Solent',
although the amount of either Severn or Solent the ticket covers might make it
a bit of a misnomer. The rover west of this one is the `Freedom of Devon and
Cornwall', but of course it starts being harder to delineate sensible areas
when the routes your trains can take are no longer geographically restricted by
being on a big chunky peninsula. Anyway, I digress. I spent a week walking,
cycling, and taking trains around the South West, and now feel fully holidayed.
In due course all the photos of the stations I visited will be on the web at
http://www.chiark.greenend.org.uk/~owend/interests/rail/stations.html
Back at work tomorrow, so I get to find out whether anything has exploded
dramatically in my absence!
---------------------------------------------------[Sat May 24 21:56:40 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: Cleopatra had a huge beer
Or so I recall from a conversation earlier this week. I got back to work on
Monday to find a power cut had made life mildly awkward for work while I was
away, but only mildly, and my cover arrangements kept most people happy in my
absence. I'm conscientious enough that I worry about this sort of thing when I
go away on holiday.
This year Ben and I managed to schedule our holidays more sensibly, so we were
(a) travelling in the last week of the old railway timetable rather than the
first week of the new one, and (b) back in Cambridge in time for the beer
festival. I took advantage of this by going twice: first on Tuesday with a
bunch of people from work, which was good fun if a bit busy and cold; and again
on Thursday with Mary. Somewhat remarkably, she'd never been to the beer
festival before in her many years in Cambridge! (I shouldn't boggle too much;
so far I have managed every year without fail to consider visiting the Milton
Maize Maze just after it's closed for the year.)
So we went along and had a gloriously warm evening trying an assortment of
beers (my favourite was probably the grapefruit beer which both smelt and
tasted of grapefruit) and meeting an assortment of friends. I'd go as far as
to say it was probably the best time I've had at the beer festival :-).
---------------------------------------------------[Mon May 26 17:00:24 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: Book rumblings
I've been pondering the predictive text facility on my telephone recently. In
particular, having been surprised once too often by its choice of `good' over
`home' it occurred to me to wonder what other surprising predictive text
collisions were out there. I've nicknamed these `homotexts', although for all
I know they already have a name. Anyway, I took a fairly poor word list
(Debian's /usr/share/dict/words) and a bit of perl to answer this question.
Browsing through the lengthy list this provided, I find:
contractions / conurbations
rumblings / stockings
pervert / request
puffiness / ruddiness
queer / steep
But the absolute best has to be (drumroll):
equitable / fruitcake
So there you go. It's an equitable fruitcake, Henry.
This little exercise has cheered me up a little. I was feeling very down-in-
the-dumps earlier today but now I'm dimly aware of things other than dumps.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed May 28 17:15:29 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: Other rumblings
These rumblings aren't homotextual, before you ask. It thundered last night,
which woke me up and made me go `ooh' at the loud bangs and flashing lights,
before it made me go `bah' at my inability to get back to sleep. I don't mind
much, because there's something special about a thunderstorm: wonder at the
beauty of it, a little fear of its awesome power, and quite a lot of smugness
at being inside and dry.
I'm rather surprised that a fair few people didn't notice it all, though!
Usually I'm the one who sleeps like a log through any drama!
---------------------------------------------------[Sat May 31 20:45:06 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: Good and useful
It's been a good week, and one which scores several points in the column for
communication, so hurrah for all that.
After a bit of ropey weather at the start of the week, it was lovely on Friday
for lunch with Mary at Trockel Ullman & Freunde, a tea shop on Pembroke Street.
I don't know how long it's been there but it shouldn't have been my first time
in there; their cake was heavenly. The weather was lovely again today, so I
set out into town to be Useful[tm]. This means I got the wherewithal to remove
money from my decrepit C&G account to put it somewhere useful, a replacement
cover for my telephone, an optician's appointment, and a copy of the Property
News to find houses to ogle.
In case this wasn't useful enough, and because it was still gorgeous weather by
the afternoon, I trimmed my hedges, mowed my lawns, killed some weeds, and did
the hoovering. I have the slight muscular wobble in my arms after hard work,
but I feel useful and accomplished. Hooray.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Jun 08 01:43:50 2008]--
From: (S) Light attaches (steph)
Subject: Who Foxton my strawberry?
Today I cycled to Foxton, some 10 miles away from home, which is probably the
furthest I've cycled on my own to date. It was remarkably easy, and I got
there in plenty of time to collect the station and catch a train to Meldreth.
The cycle ride there was for some distance along the A10, which was at its most
pleasant (oddly) when it was a dual carriageway; I much prefer there to be a
whole lane in which cars can overtake me. When I first got my bike I said I'd
be using it to get places I needed to get to, but at some point along the way
I've come to enjoy cycling. Who would have thought it?
From Foxton to Meldreth, then, and a short cycle back to Shepreth between the
two before catching a train back to Cambridge. The train was packed with
people bound for Strawberry Fair, which I'd forgotten about, but fortunately
there was just enough room in a vestibule for my bike.
When we got back to Cambridge, though, it was a bit of a trial. They were
trying to get people to exit by the side gate from platform 3, but I didn't
want that, so I cheerfully blustered my way through the line of staff with a
`I'm going to use station facilities' and bought a pasty. When I finally did
exit by platform 3 it seems that arriving passengers were being decanted into a
snake-like queue delineated by barriers, leading into some marquees. The whole
place was guarded with BTP officers and PCSOs. I never did find out what was
in the tents, though, as wheeling a bicycle caused them to direct me through a
side gate which avoided the whole thing.
I assume they were checking arrivals for drugs and the like. I'd be interested
to hear from anyone who actually knows.
In the evening was Verity's party, with a surprise Liz and a good many other
lovely people. I go to sleep now.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Jun 10 16:12:16 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: The mend
Today everything seems like it's broken, not working properly, or otherwise
held together by a collection of awkward ad hoc lashups. I think that's just
my perception rather than reality, since otherwise I would expect a crowd of
angry people outside my door, but nevertheless it's there: the feeling that
everything is a futile struggle against chaos and destiny. All I can do is
keep chipping away at each problem and try to pay attention to the thanks I
get, no matter how absurd it may seem.
I suspect this is all because I didn't sleep well in the heat last night.
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Jun 15 23:15:31 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: Wine and punishment
On Friday Jomsborg the New celebrated its birthday with its annual dinner, the
Veizla. For an event that has traditionally been dominated by old farts (one
of whom I have gradually become) there was a surprising number of new, nay even
undergraduate, members there, and it made for an evening of slightly excessive
drinking, many conversations, and much silliness. It was particularly good to
see those ex-Cambridge people like Matthew, Sally, and Kate who now live in the
Deep Beyond. Since I was putting Kate up for the weekend in my spare room, it
was no effort to go to James's birthday BBQ on Jesus Green on Saturday
afternoon, although my energy flagged very quickly. It wasn't a hangover per
se, since I'd only had a very mild headache first thing, but I was very very
tired and fit for nothing more than sleep by 8pm! There are many things to be
said for age, wisdom, experience, and equanimity among them, but it seems to
have diminished my capacity for late nights and booze. Ah well :-)
After a lazy morning with the paper and `The Archers' Kate and I headed to the
Carlton for lunch, before she headed off back to Cheltenham and I went onwards
to the Gallery for assorted Indiana Jones silliness: `Temple of Doom' on DVD,
and then the Lego Indiana Jones version on the PlayStation.
So rather a busy weekend, but a good one. Of that there is no doubt, and I'm
glad, for some obvious reasons and some that are less so.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Jun 18 18:22:55 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: Coming through in waves
I've been rather down today (and yesterday evening too) and I suspect it's
almost entirely chemical; I missed an anti-depressant dose a couple of days ago
-- notice the suspicious lead-time -- and the cold at the start of the week
probably didn't help either. I suspect I'm on the way back up to normality
now, but apologies to anyone I've been annoyingly mopey or clingy at; please
feel free to think `poor/dear/bloody steph' and go about your business.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Jun 20 15:57:14 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: What's in a name?
Most of you have already heard this, but one of this University's colleges has
a new name: New Hall is officially to become Murray Edwards College at the
start of next year. They get 30 million pounds, and get to celebrate the name
of their founder and of their benefactors. Hurrah.
Except I'm more interested in my reaction, which is composed of several
different strands. First, oh no, it's a change. I'm not a natural fan of
change. I disliked it when my parents moved house, but if anything I'm even
less fond of things changing their names. Marathon became Snickers, Opal
Fruits became Starburst, and the less said about Anglia Railways the better.
This is even true when I invented the new name. Some years ago there was a
little program called STel, and when it acquired SSH functionality I jokingly
suggested the name PuTTY, proceeding (when Simon actually adopted the name) to
insist that I would always call it STel. See how well that worked out...
But if change is bad, then tradition is good, and Cambridge confounds me by
having a tradition of change. My own college was refounded as Gonville and
Caius from the original Gonville Hall, University College became Wolfson, and
Magdalene was once Buckingham College. Cambridge colleges have been doing this
for centuries, so clearly New Hall is just following in an ancient and noble
tradition.
On the third hand, though, does it sound as good? Will it trip off the tongue
as easily as `Sidney Sussex', and how will it be abbreviated? Murray?
Medwards? Mudwards? Will old and current students take to the new name or
will they feel that `their' college will always be New Hall? How long will
it take before New Hall is mentioned as rarely as Michaelhouse? Who will talk
of the Murray Edwards Dome?
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Jun 28 02:15:03 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: That is not it at all
This is not my world. I perhaps wish that it were, or at least that I could be
in it if not actually of it. And I fear, having become accustomed to a certain
way of being, that you think I had an ulterior motive. I don't do ulterior
motives, except in retrospect, and that's rather too late to game.
It gets harder to think of things to say, and what haunts me is that my mother
said the same, but if I am quiet (yet apparently very noisy) they ask if I am
well, as of course I would. It's only a way of caring. As are those ways of
being that confound; alcohol and familiarity make fuzzy those lines which
formerly delineated groups and their behaviour. They (which is another we) are
not as we are.
Perhaps there should be fewer evenings like this.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Jul 05 23:28:28 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: Sadder day
I seem to be suffering from low weekends at the moment. If it has been due to
prescription timing and accidentally missing a dose in the past, that wasn't
the case this weekend. It looks like I'll have something to mention to my
doctor when I see him in a week or two. Not that it's necessarily possible to
tell what's the background chemical depression and what's actually reactive
anyway, and in any case if it's reactive then it ought to be reacting to
_something_ and I don't quite know what that could be; there are niggly things
but hardly serious ones.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Jul 14 22:37:49 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: *sniffle*
I seem to have picked up a cold while I was in Hull at the weekend, which is a
pity, since it was good to get up there and see my brother, his fiancee, and my
little nephew Drew. He's nearly three now, and is going through a phase of
being awkward one day, and angelic the next; still, we went for a wander around
Beverley on the Saturday before settling down for an early dinner back at the
house and a lovely evening's wittering about, well, anything that came to mind
after copious wine.
On Sunday we went for a walk in the Humber Bridge Country Park, which is quite
close to where my brother lives and is evidently a hit with Drew. Steps uphill
still hold an attraction when you're two, as does watching dogs swim in the
water, and of course the slide in the playground is a source of endless fun.
(I was quite impressed, really. He patiently waited for the other kids to
have their go, and then when one of them was dithering in the way he said
`Excuse me' :-) )
I was going to leave earlier, but a lamb roast tempted me to stick around until
mid afternoon, getting me back to Cambridge somewhere between 7 and 8. In
retrospect I was probably a little becolden even then, as I had to stop en
route to refuel my alertness. On the one hand it's slightly alarming to notice
how easily one can become slightly drowsy on the motorway, but on the other
it's reassuring that I noticed and did things to fix it.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Jul 28 10:20:39 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: Days and days
I've not written in here much, have I? That's probably because, by and large,
my life is OK, which is something for which I should be thoroughly grateful.
If there are niggles, they're either not to be mentioned here or should be the
subject of a different entry.
So, what have I been doing? Last Friday evening I went with BSS folk to the
bowling place near the Cineworld. I quite like bowling, even though I go
rarely enough that I don't really improve much when I go. Still, I'm competent
enough to hit the pins nearly every time. Danielle, whom I drove to
Addenbrooke's a few weeks back after she broke her foot, was still in the
plastercast-replacement strappy robofoot so couldn't bowl, so I flitted between
bowling and nattering to her while she watched. I think I'm a bit soft and
don't like to see people being left out. Cocktails followed later, and later
still we went to the Junction for Boogie Wonderland. Unlike
the Cindys^WBallare definition of cheese which was very much after my time,
this was pure unremixed tunes from the 1970s and 1980s which I recognised. It
was a fun evening.
The Sunday that followed was one which reminded me that I don't have to be
drunk or talking rubbish to have a good time. This was afternoon tea at
Debbie's, and I chatted happily with people I didn't know too well while a band
played on Jesus Green in the distance and rowers went by on the river below;
Debbie has a flat with a window directly overlooking the river, you see.
Wind forward a few days and I was driving Gareth back from mine to Cutter Ferry
Bridge to pick Verity up after Town Bumps -- I didn't even know they existed
until this year! -- and pleasing myself with the ease with which I picked my
way along the double-parked streets in that area.
Friday saw me at the pub with work people once more, which was just as well as
the weekend was really too hot to do very much at all...
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Jul 29 23:48:12 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: Which is more annoying?
(a) Not being able to think of things to say to someone or (b) wishing you
could?
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Aug 06 23:29:23 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: Or you'll save me
Life feels complicated at the moment. It's not entirely clear why to me, and
it'll be even less clear to you since I shall omit relevant details. I'm
reading a book Mary lent me about touch in therapy, and finding myself at the
same time rather lacking in either touch or therapy. I'm thinking about
attraction and to what extent it's felt and to what extent it's manufactured
by the processes of thought, while simultaneously noting that this may be
happening again regardless and wondering what to do about it. I'm enjoying
evenings to myself while simultaneously feeling a bit of a hermit.
Finally, of course, I'm writing bleakly painted diary entries when in reality I
feel quite happy.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Aug 09 23:20:32 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: Wash your mouth out
The Castle staff served me a pint of cleaning fluid rather than Explorer last
night. I'm not sure I can blame the one `this is not Explorer, I'm not sure
what it is, ugh ugh ugh' sip of it for how atrociously drunk I got, although
it did mean a couple of free pints on the (extremely embarrassed) house.
That's my amusing anecdote for the month.
I was the worse for wear this morning, but that didn't stop me meeting a couple
of friends from work at the station for a trip to the Great British Beer
Festival in Earl's Court. One of them was also the worse for wear from the
pub, and halfway to London found she was feeling bad enough that she left the
train to turn around and go home. Still, once we were there I had a good
afternoon: slightly tired but enjoying tasting a variety of beers before we
left around 5:30.
Once back in Cambridge I went to the Gallery's anniversary party, where Gareth
fed me sausages. I was about a third there, about a third elsewhere, and about
a third asleep, but it was good to see people all the same.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Aug 12 22:38:47 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: In a fish bowl
I don't know how well my life is going at the moment, since it rather depends
on the rest of the week. My horoscope tells me `you'll be far less stressed if
you accept the unknown as an opportunity to learn, rather than a peril to be
conquered'. A quick draw of the Tarot came up:
I(R) QS 4W
0 VIII VII(R) 4C(R)
6P(R) 4S AC
...which is rather more optimistic than I might have expected. (I don't
actually believe the stars or pictures on cards can tell the future or tell me
what to do, but it's an amusing enough aid to introspection. Leave your
arguments that my introspection needs no assistance at the door.)
So since life is rather fuzzy at the moment, let's talk about relationships
instead. The next entry is a slightly redacted version of an entry in my
private diary from 21st July.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Aug 12 22:48:37 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: North is North
I've been thinking recently about what I find attractive, or more
specifically about one factor that seems to affect how I relate to
people I might be interested in.
There are some people who for whatever reason I feel "smaller" than.
Not physically smaller, but in terms of personality: they're brasher,
more worldly-wise-seeming, whatever. One the one hand I often find
these people attractive, because their personalities literally attract
attention: they're vivacious and fun to be around. On the other hand,
I don't feel I have much chance with such people because they're
"bigger" than me; to express interest would be approaching them as a
supplicant rather than a would-be equal partner.
Then there are people who I feel larger than. They're not any less
intelligent, or any less interesting, but they're usually quieter, and
perhaps not so much the life and soul of the party. Attraction is
anything but purely physical for me, so such people will often start
to seem attractive purely because they don't feel obviously "larger"
than me. They're interesting to talk to, but perhaps less "exciting"
than their brasher counterparts, and I wonder whether the attraction
is mostly just that they're easy (in the sense of not difficult), less
of a challenge, less of a risk of really nasty rejection.
It raises a conundrum: I'm a quiet meek sort (even though apparently
I'm physically quite loud) and yet I both like and am slightly
intimidated by (what I perceive as) strong women. There's a continuum
I'm glossing over by painting only a couple of arbitrary points, of
course, and most intelligent people will in fact end up residing
somewhere in between these two points.
Will end up there, in fact, after I've spent some time getting to know
them, and talking to them, and there's the rub: the quieter types are
often those it's easier to get to know and talk to, whereas it may be
harder to bring the "larger" people towards the centre of the scale.
Does any of that make sense?
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Aug 15 13:45:32 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: In the beginning
`You know, relationship-potentiality is supposed to be
enriching and exciting, not a cause for moping.'
So said a friend of mine the other night. Unfortunately at least some of the
time I find being interested in someone really rather stressful. These are
some of the reasons why:
* `She'll hate me.'
I'm almost always already friends with the people I find attractive, and one of
the big fears is that taking any step indicating interest would break the
friendship and make things unpleasant and awkward for both of us. I think this
is the number one reason which either informs or underlies all the rest.
* Overinterpreting and overanalysing every sign and signal
Nothing goes unnoticed when I like someone. A smile makes my day, not getting
a chance to chat makes me fear I've done something wrong, and being
oversensitive means I'm probably not going to notice the real signs which would
tell me how things are or aren't going.
* Jealousy of the competition (real or perceived)
If someone else is in the picture and seems to have some interest in the object
of my affection, I find it deeply uncomfortable to observe. It may in fact
just be innocent day-to-day conversation between friends, but unless I know for
sure I get that sinking feeling in my stomach. This is particularly bad when I
like the third party, of course, because then there's a tension between them
being a friend and them being an opponent.
* `Waiting for the telephone to tell me I'm alive.'
If you see me checking my phone it's a fair sign I'm interested in someone.
Hoping they'll call, send a text message, _something_. Particularly if I've
sent _them_ a message. I don't like the feeling of being on edge, being
dependent.
* `Are we nearly there yet?'
When's the right time to make a step, to invite them to lunch, dinner, a
self-proclaimed date? Delaying too much could mean missing an opportunity,
striking too hard too early could miss from the other direction.
I'm not saying I don't enjoy spending time with nice people I'm attracted to,
and it's often quite exciting when it seems to be going well, but the minuses
seem to hit me quite hard. So, o wise readers, how can I improve my
relationship potentiality experience?
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Aug 20 16:11:23 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: All that you want
I decided to treat myself, so I've taken the afternoon off and after a spot of
lunch and some reading, I explored the top of the Grand Arcade car park to see
what the views were like up there. Cambridge always looks different from
above: somehow more of a place rather than a collection of landmarks. It's the
way you can see the UL tower behind King's chapel, or the tops of all the
churches in the centre at once.
Anyway, having properly appreciated my city a bit, I went to Hairy Canary to
have my hair cut shorter. I remain in awe of proper hairdressers. It only
takes half an hour or so, but it's so very nice to be looked after (hair
washed, cup of tea, cut, dry and brush) that it feels longer. Then of course I
get to enjoy the freshly cut lightness of it. Hair is weird stuff: it can look
thicker just by being shorter, while at the same time actually feeling lighter.
If I have the effort there will be a picture, though anyone expecting bright
green and spikes may be disappointed.
---------------------------------------------------[Wed Aug 27 17:34:26 2008]--
From: (S) the patient is no longer here (steph)
Subject: Among the porcelain
So something was said, and a reply was made which was not a reply, which in
itself is rather like a reply. Pragmatics, you see.
But, well, I dared disturb the universe and nothing seems to have exploded,
which is preferable by far to the hundred indecisions...
In other news, I treated myself to an iPod this lunchtime. It is most shiny.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Aug 29 15:12:55 2008]--
From: (S) strong enough to be (steph)
Subject: maxime fabulosus
Since I'm currently feeling quite good about myself and want to be an even
better me than you have heretofore known, I shall ask here what I asked in the
pub last night: what do you think are my best points?
Similarly, what do you think are my worst points? Be gentle.
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Sep 02 12:39:38 2008]--
From: (S) strong enough to be (steph)
Subject: In brief, in depth, introverted
Friday: went to pub with BSS folk, became mopey
Saturday: hangover, ice cream with Lucy, duck and `No Country for Old
Men' with rjk and Naath, became content
Sunday: went to Yarmouth to see the sea, became happy
Monday: went to pub with BSS folk, became mopey
Tuesday: hangover, talked to T, becoming happier
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Sep 05 17:36:51 2008]--
From: (S) strong enough to be (steph)
Subject: Somewhere, nowhere, and everywhere in between
So, last Wednesday I got something which, from a certain point of view, might
be considered a `no'. But because it was just expressed as a failure to answer
the question, and there was no chance to ask further, to discuss, there's doubt
in my mind. Then chats in corridors and shared laughs revive hopes, and then a
forward rival dashes them. Except possibly the rival isn't actually a rival,
which brings hope back.
I'm not nowhere -- there's still a friend there -- but at what point does it
(should it?) become obvious that I can or can't get _somewhere_?
In this terrain of pitfalls and possibilities, I wish I had a map.
---------------------------------------------------[Mon Sep 08 19:54:34 2008]--
From: (S) strong enough to be (steph)
Subject: Navigation and Admiration
Alternatively, I could do what I do in real life without a map: follow my nose.
It's been a good day today because I let myself be happy and friendly without
worrying about how it might be seen. It's been a good day because I had a
chance to catch up with Mary (or should that be Dr Mary?) over lunch. It's
been a good day because I got so involved in something that I stayed late at
work.
I stayed late at work because I was enjoying what I was doing and wanted to
give it `just one more try' before going home, but there were still plenty of
people around the Cavendish who were still there, working, when I left. A
friend has recently had some long experiments to do, working through the night
to get results. Besides worrying about them a little, I can't help but feel a
hell of a lot of admiration for that amount of dedication to work. Maybe there
are practical reasons -- the microscope is free at night, the samples will die,
it Just Takes Time -- but at the end of it all I like to imagine there's
something else there too: a love of Science.
Perhaps that's all just sentimental twaddle on my part -- cheesed off
experimentalists are doubtless already queuing with the brickbat replies to
this diary entry -- but the fact remains that I work with incredibly
cool people doing incredibly cool stuff. Sometimes I really love working at
the Cavendish.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Sep 12 23:47:19 2008]--
From: (S) strong enough to be (steph)
Subject: The Long Game
Last Friday something flipped inside me and I recovered my balance. Absence
gives a sense of perspective, even if you do miss the absent party, and that
unclouded view gave me the chance to notice a few things about people that
helped. Also I got a number of compliments from unexpected quarters and
unexpectedly met a friend from work I've not seen in a while. There are some
people I feel I can trust from the very start, to whom I will instinctively
answer fully when asked what's up. She's one of them, and she said something
positive that I am bearing in mind.
So this week, with another absence, I have shone -- here's the key -- with
everyone. There will be trouble ahead, as there always is, but when I feel
like this, anything is possible.
---------------------------------------------------[Fri Sep 19 17:12:37 2008]--
From: (S) strong enough to be (steph)
Subject: I'd love to say
I'd love to say that I had lots to talk about, and I could mention that my gas
had low pressure which National Grid Gas then fixed, but my mind is
fundamentally one-track at the moment. Currently not in a particularly bad
way, though as anyone who's been paying attention will know, that is subject to
sudden change.
It won't carry on like this, one way or another. Preferably one way, but I'm
used to the other.
---------------------------------------------------[Sat Sep 20 23:31:38 2008]--
From: (S) a loveless lifeless husk (steph)
Subject: In the end (...?)
I think there are two ways you can look at attraction and the start of
relationships. One is that there is sometimes a spark between two people
without which nothing will ever develop, and the other is that people become
accustomed to each other with time and that persistence pays off. The truth as
always is somewhere in between, but seeing what looks like a spark between
someone else and the person you're interested in makes the long game, the
tortoise's part, seem very feeble indeed.
Of course, people say `they're only talking', `I don't think she's actually
interested in him', `he's the one doing all the work', but I see the smiles and
the laughter bouncing back and forth and the linked arms at the end of the
night, and it seems like more to me.
Until you've heard the word `no', says a friend, you don't know. But asking
the questions that would get such a straight answer is precisely the sort of
thing that minimises the chance of that answer being `yes'. And you're
supposed to read between the lines, aren't you? (Except, of course, I
would only see negatives between the lines even if there were positives there.)
At the moment, even though every fibre of me wants to carry on caring and
striving, the sensible move for my well-being now is to drop it. Perhaps
permanently, perhaps temporarily, but certainly awkwardly; realistically this
would mean excising a portion of my social life, which would be a terrible
pity.
The other thing to come from all this is that I don't think I want to carry on
narrating my life like this in this diary, at least not for a while. I value
the comments I get from readers when I get them -- please do comment if you
have anything to say about this entry, by the way -- but there's such a thing
as thinking too much and public diarising (as opposed to the raw catharsis of
my private diary) brings that out in me. I think too much. I feel too much,
too.
I may write more, in a day, a week, a month, or when I next find I have
something to say. This diary has a convention, though, so should it return it
will be a new Part, a new chapter, a new start.
`There'll come a time when all of this is over
Something else will grow and take its place'
-- Marillion, `Don't Hurt Yourself'
---------------------------------------------------[Tue Sep 30 17:47:59 2008]--
From: (S) parallel? (steph)
Subject: Foregone
E N D O F P A R T S I X
---------------------------------------------------[Sun Oct 19 21:08:26 2008]--
From: (S) parallel? (steph)
Subject: Coda
If it has ended, and I cannot see how it could now be otherwise, it has ended
badly.
I am in pieces, spiralling down into a bleak place from which I'm unsure I know
how to escape.