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0-2-2002
I've been accused of not thinking much, about anything. This is
possibly smoker's apathy, though cutting out nicotine hasn't really
helped. So this will be a "notebook" to the "scrapbook"
that is the homepage. Whereas the homepage will be gentle with emotions
and ideas, hopefully allowing a few to sink in, here it may make
no sense at all. 10 minutes worth of garbage.
Thoughts: Death, tragedy, friendship, betrayal, work, Americans,
Canadians, nicotine, £3 minimums, London post codes, children,
gangsta rap, gangsta rap written by children, money, 30 miles a
day, 30 years old, hypoglycemia, loss, travel, departure.
I find myself thinking more about the 30 miles a day and the gangsta
rap than those things that are current - the death, tragedy and
friendship thing. London postcodes are in alphabetical sequence,
outside of the Central London area, by the way (hence E8 is Hackney
and E9 is Homerton - with E1 being Whitechapel). Fascinating. Also,
concern if paths chosen, and some paths that were burnt into brain,
some over a fraction of a second others over years, were correct.
Survival. Choir boys (I got my hair cut) and raves - considering
celebrating future significant birthdays (40, 48 and 60) several
years ahead of schedule. Also thinking about papier mache, and the
annoyance that I am still without work. Fark is keeping up my photoshop
pen tool and lighting effects skills, but less and less time will
be devoted to it.
Will this site survive? Does it need to?
Hm, well it's going to for another couple of years at least ;o)
I am making subtle changes to the interface, the finished product
should be with you by close of play, 7-4-2002.
1-5-2002
Hell, it was more like 50 miles a day and £2.50 minimums.
Two months on the road, and hypoglycemia took it's toll. Got a better
job. Back in print (hooray and yippeee!) and dealing with crashing
print queues, bad spelling and changing briefs (boo and hiss!).
Deadlines will hopefully be more realistic once we have a PC that
works (though the crash, reboot, reprint formula is now second nature).
Cycling for survival, and barely surviving, has done wonders for
my calfs (I don't think I have any calves) and so now have the energy
to get drunk in the evenings. Actually working longer hours, but
deriving some pleasure from passing lycrad office workers killing
themselves on "London hills" on the way home. A lower
gear, perhaps? It's terrible seeing these people on expensive 21
gear bikes, and just using at most two of those gears. Even more
terrible to see the way they rush in front at traffic lights, get
into the correct starting position, then wobble like arses as they
struggle to make themselves and the bicycle move in 20th gear. Get
a comfier seat - you don't have to get off the saddle each
time you start up.
Having said that, my next bike (if I'm still in London) will have
a single front chainwheel and at most 7 sprockets (cogs). No hill
around here requires the number of gears you're offered by the majority
of cheap bikes on the streets. The test would be Crouch Hill, but
have had no reason to go anywhere near there for some time. Taking
it mushroom hunting (and that delightful Welham Green to Potters
Bar mud/rut/woods run) could prove a little tricky. Well, I can
always get off and walk. I'm not that proud ;)
4-9-2002
I just feel pissed off that I don't have an income. Things seem
to be oscillating desperately between good and bad that I don't
know what's coming next. It can't really get worse, though, so that
keeps me happy.
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