My Greatest Idea Ever... for today, anyway

I've just had the idea for the greatest computer game in the history of everything. Huzzah!

It's called "Eviction 2". There was no "Eviction", but as we all know, the first game in any series always sucks, so I've decided to skip it.

Anyway, it's a cross between "The Sims", "Big Brother", and an MMORPG.

Here's the idea: you create your very own online persona (let's call her, picking a name entirely at random, Jade), who will be entered into one of several themed online environs (the House, the Pirate Isle, the Space Station) with a number of other players (let's call them 'contestants'). Each week, teams are assigned a task, which they must complete using the resources of the environment and their own guile. Each week, the team members will then nominate folks for Eviction (hence the name).

Now, as a twist, the rest of the community (usually meaning the players in the other games that are running simultaneously) are able to view the events and goings on in the various games, and may, at the end of the week, vote to Evict the players they wish from the various games.

Is it not brilliant?

Bored

Very occasionally in my line of work, you hit a test that runs along the lines of:

1) Set the system running.
2) Wait until it stops.

I'm currently running one such test, and have been for the past nine (working) hours. I'm quite bored.

Stealing a stolen list

Juliet stole this list from Ellie, and I stole it from her. I would have stolen it from another source, but somewhere between reading the list and getting around to it, said blog switched to "friends-only". No matter.

It's a list of books. The ones I've read are in bold, the ones I want to read are in italics. Note that there are very few in the 'want to read' list - typically if I want to read a book I'll go and read it. There are many books on the list I wouldn't mind reading, but won't actively seek out.

1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3. To kill a Mockingbird (Harper Lee) - No, but I saw it in an actual theatre once.
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (Tolkien) - technically, these should just be one book, "The Lord of the Rings". It was only split up because Tolkien's publisher insisted.
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (Rowling) - No such beast. I have read "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" however. Another mad decision by publishers; apparently Americans don't know what a 'philosopher' is!
17. Fall on Your Knees (Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis) - oddly, the only one in the series that I haven't read!
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I know this much is true (Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrey Niffenegger) - currently sitting in my 'to read' pile
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolstoy) - but only if I can lay my hands on an unabridged version. I hate abridged books with a fiery passion.
64. Interview with a Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch 22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According to Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White) - a long, long time ago for this one.
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne Du Maurier)
84. Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind) - don't. It's a bad book.
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down (Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of Flies (Golding)
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. Ulysses (James Joyce)

Wow, only 17%! Still, it doesn't strike me as a 'must read' list, so I guess I'm probably okay. The inclusion of "Wizard's First Rule" is rather odd, and the omission of things like "War of the Worlds", "The Demolished Man" and "The Three Musketeers" strikes me as near-criminal.

Competition Two

Yesterday the band were at Bathgate. The only thing I won was a bad sunburn.

We came sixth, out of ten, instead of our previous eighth out of 25. And, in fact, all of the bands at yesterday's competition were at Dunbar, and we beat all but three of them. Which means we're getting worse!

The good news from this is that I'm not responsible for our plight. I'm one of the strongest pipers in the band, and thrive under pressure, so am doing well enough. The bad news is that I don't see the band improving any in the weeks to come - I suspect we've done about as well as we can expect to this season. Which is pretty damning comment, but I fear it's warranted. It strikes me that there isn't enough strength in depth in the band generally, and it strikes me also that the ambitions of too many of the players are rather limited.

It's all quite unfortunate.

Matalan, how you annoy me...

1) A couple of months ago, I bought a pair of jeans from Matalan. This worked quite well, until it came to pass that the assistant couldn't put through the sale until I signed up for their stupid customer card. I found this mildly annoying, but annoying all the same. After all, shouldn't one be able to just pay for things? Or is that too much to hope for?

2) Anyway, I signed up for their stupid card. Since then, they've taken to sending me a periodic update about what's new in their ranges. Hurrah!

Quite aside from the annoyance of receiving yet more junk mail that I can't recycle (since it contains name and address details), there's the annoyance that the mailing is clearly and obviously not intended for me - virtually the entire is filled with women's clothing. Which rather makes sense... but then perhaps they shouldn't send it to me! Even just having a "Don't send me your stupid mailings" option on the form would have been ideal, but no...

3) Anyway, I decided the time had come to go and buy another pair of jeans. It seemed the thing to do. So, despite not having been informed that they still sold such things (their mailing was remarkably silent on that issue), I decided to risk it, and went back to the store where I had previously bought jeans. And, behold! they still had a big rack of jeans.

Astonished as I was by this miraculous event, I went searching for the jeans I actually wanted. This was an adventure in itself, as the jeans were carefully labelled such that the size could only be read from above... and the jeans then racked above head height! Still, I persevered... and discovered that they had every single size in stock, except for the one I actually wanted!

(You know, it would be really nice if I could say this was the first time this sort of thing had happened, but no. It seems whenever I seek out trousers of any sort they never have the right size in stock. And it's not like I'm seeking a strange or obscure size. On the contrary, I wear one of the most common sizes. And yet no shop seems to bother stocking such things.)

4) Having been rebuffed by their actual store, I then struck upon another cunning scheme - I could order online! After all, surely they must have a web presence, complete with online store?

So, about two seconds of Googling, and there I was. I went into the store, had a look, and found that the store didn't list the entire range, simple as that would be. Instead, they had a small taster of their "huge range", and an entreaty to go visit one of their stores to get the thing that was actually wanted.

Of course, the small taster did not include the item I actually wanted to purchase. Gaaaaah!

Conclusion:

When I was in the Matalan store, between me and the rack of jeans, there was a man shuffling in a zombified manner, purchases in hand. At the time, I inwardly cursed him for his incredible annoyance, but now I wonder instead if I should have pitied him. Was he some previous shopper, stuck there for all eternity, his spirit broken by their nonsensical policies? Did his family know where he was, or had they given him up for dead? Just how long had he been trapped there, doomed to shamble through the store without surcease? I thought about going back, to see if he could be saved, but I feared for my own safety. Some risks are just too great to take.

Thirty years ago, to the day...

On the 25th of May 1977, Star Wars was released in the US. I didn't feel this day could pass without comment.

May the Force be with you.

Comment on a post you haven't read!

As Chris notes in his comment on the post directly below this one, there was a post that I deleted. This was because I decided one of the things said was something I really shouldn't go saying, even in jest. And, since I didn't have time to edit the post, I deleted the whole.

Anyway, the post noted that I had expected that wives suck the life out of their husbands, and then examined this question with reference to the statistical evidence. The results were certainly startling, and led to some astonishing conclusions.

So, now I open the floor to you, gentle readers. Comment on this missing post that you have not read!

No, you can't save me £20 per month

I have a Virgin Mobile pay-as-I-go mobile, and Virgin supply my internet access. I'm reasonably happy with both, although the mobile suffers from very high call charges and very spotty coverage (I don't really care about these because I almost never use my phone, so it's not worth the hassle of switching away). I get my landline supplied by BT, and have Sky TV.

So today Virgin Media phoned me and asked if I would be interested in switching my phone and TV to their service. When I said I wasn't interested, the agent was surprised. "Even though we could save you £20 a month?" he asked, to which I said yes.

Now, the telephone savings would be negligible - I would still have to pay BT line rental, and that counts for about 90% of my spending there, since I never use my phone.

No, the issue is really Sky. And, to be fair, I do spend quite a bit every month on that, what with the movie and sports packages. So, perhaps the Virgin offering really would be cheaper.

But it's not a fair comparison, because in fact Virgin can't offer the comparable product. Virgin customers don't get Sky 1, so that would mean no "24", no "Lost", no "Battlestar Galactica".

So, um, no thanks. I'll continue to spend the money, and get the product I actually want.

Now Virgin could make this a tough decision. See, they own the Bravo channel, which shows "Blade", "The Unit" and "Daybreak". So, if they pulled their channels from the Sky offering, then things become interesting. Frankly, though, I'd rather they didn't. Instead, they need to get the Sky channels back, or else they're always going to lose.

In fact, Virgin are making a mistake by putting the notion of switching in mind. See, Sky also offer an integrated package, which would save me the money I spend on Virgin's internet service each month. So, I could keep the products I like, and save quite a lot of money each month by switching... but not to them.

That, of course, raises the question: why haven't I switched? Well, the answer is quite simple. Virgin have provided me with flawless internet service for the last ten months (or however long it's been), where the Sky offering is untested. So, given the choice, I'll give them a chance to screw things up before I move away. Though perstering me to take more of their services would be a good way to start.

Gone phishing...

Well, Microsoft just cheered me up immensely. As I'm sure you know, my cousin has her own blog, which I check on a daily basis. Today, Microsoft Internet Exploder decided that this was a "known phishing site", and as such should not be viewed by anyone ever. So, it very helpfully blocked it for me.

Thanks guys, I feel much safer knowing you're on the case.

Films that aren't even worth finishing

My DVD collection has some really bad films in it. And, with the films available on Sky and elsewhere, I have seen some real stinkers. I even made it through "Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle", which was quite an ordeal.

So, my standards for watching films aren't exactly too high.

But in the last week, I have found myself watching two films that weren't even worth finishing... and in fact demanded that I respond by putting them off halfway through, and then deleting. The first was "Underworld: Evolution", a truly boring sequel to a really bad film. I 'watched' about an hour of that before giving up, while setting up my new PC in the foreground. The second was "Basic Instinct 2", of which I might have watched 30 minutes, become succumbing to the tedium. (This was an odd one - the first film is actually quite good, once you get past the controversy. The sequel is just dull, dull, dull.)

Now there's a disturbing thought...

I had today off, in order to get some urgent repairs done to my car. And I came to a very disturbing realisation: I actually enjoy my job, and find it rather more satisfying, than any of my actual hobbies.

This is a very disturbing realisation, not least because I really don't want to be some sort of miserable workaholic.

I think I need some new hobbies.

Competition Season Begins...

On Saturday, my band were at Dunbar, our first competition of the year. We came 8th, a marked improvement over last year when the band came 17th. As this was before I joined, I am of course going to claim the credit.

Still, it remains clear that there is still a lot of work to be done.

The day itself was pretty horrible, being grey and overcast, with occasional rain (but not when we were playing). It was also really, really cold. This combined with the horror of having the get up at 6:30 to generally make me fairly miserable all day. Plus, I had only taken one magazine to read on the bus, which would have been fine had I not finished it by the time we arrived.

They just couldn't leave it alone

I went to the post office this morning and picked up my parcel. It was a copy of Microsoft Office for my new laptop. I have just installed it, and found that Microsoft have changed the interface. They do that periodically, moving all the menus, changing the window design, and all sorts of nonsense. It's a real annoyance, since it means whenever I install a new PC I have to go through all the settings and put them back into 'Classic' view so that it looks like it always has. You know, like I actually like it to look.

Imagine my horror, then, when I found that Office 2007 has no Classic view! Yes, they've changed the arrangement unnecessarily... and made it impossible for the user to choose to do otherwise.

Thanks, Microsoft. I'll add that to my list of reasons to switch to OpenOffice.

What Use is That?

This morning, the postman attempted to deliver an item for me from Amazon, and found that it was too big for my letterbox. This is not a huge surprise, and although there is a mild annoyance that he arrived only an hour after I left for work, it's really not a big deal.

What is a big deal is the routine for me eventually getting the item. Specifically, some time in the next seven days I have to go to the local sorting office and pick up the item. And when is this alleged office open?

Mon-Fri 7:30 - 15:00
Sat 7:30 - 12:30

Honestly, three o'clock? What use is that? Grrrr!

200th post!

The 100th post on this blog was marked dedicated to David Hasslehoff. Since this is the 200th post, I feel I should dedicate it to another cultural icon, one to have had an equal impact on my psyche. I refer, of course, to Paris Hilton.

Personally, I think it's an absolute travesty that this poor innocent has been sentenced to jail time. Clearly, she is being singled out by a judge out to make a name for himself. After all, she surely cannot be expected to understand that a revoked license means you do not drive. I mean, it's not like she could read the order banning her - it was hidden away in her glove compartment! And it must be quite beyond her faculties to consider that if the license was revoked for drink driving, it might not be a good idea to drive under the influence again.

Nope, it seems obvious to me that this is a case of there being one law for the rich, and another for the poor. Free the Hilton one!

Seriously, though, I shouldn't be too hard on Paris. To be absolutely fair to her, I should point out that I did rather enjoy "House of Wax", and at least in part because of her role in it. Additionally, her musical effort "Stars Are Blind" was actually really good in almost every regard. If it weren't for the lead vocalist, it would have been great.

Best. Malfunction. Ever!

My answering machine doesn't work properly. The caller will hear me tell them to leave a message after the beep... and then there is no beep! It just says "Thank you for calling", and then hangs up.

Bwa-hahahaha!

Mayday Mayday!

I don;t get Bank Holidays off, so I was at work today. And, it being Monday, it was my day for doing the weekly shop. With it being a bank holiday, however, band wasn't on (because the centre we use was shut), so I went to Tesco an hour early... and found that it, too, was shut! Horrors!

Still, it wasn't as if I actually desperately needed anything. But the dilemma remained: did I wait a day for the weekly shop, or did I go over to the big branch in Cumbernauld, which would probably be open? In the end, my desire to go see Spiderman tomorrow won out, and so off I went to Cumbernauld.

Still, it had its advantages. First amongst these was the vastly wider selection at the big store, which allowed me to purchase a carton of Tropicana's "Raspberry and Mandarin" juice, thus completing the set (although they've introduced three new varieties since I started trying them all, so I think there's a ways to go yet...). I also bumped into a young man I knew from my days in the BB. It seems Kai now works in Tesco, although I presume that's not the sum total of his activities.

But you never gain a benefit withou a downside, it seems. The key to a nice, quick, efficient weekly shop is a carefully crafted list, with all the items ordered in a circuit from the entry point around the store, so that you circle it exactly once and pick everything up as you go past. (There are other arrangements that work, of course. There's also a zig-zag pattern where the shopper traverses each row exactly once, but I find the circle pattern works better for me.)

Of course, a carefully ordered list only works if the items are in exactly the expected places and order within the store, which obviously isn't the case when you're in an entirely different store.

Disaster!

If you've read this far, I have no doubt you are impressed that I have used so many words to say "Tesco was closed, so I went to another branch." I promise my next post will be boiled down to the barest essense of what needs to be said.

In other news...

How the Scottish Christian Party offended me

My #1 strongest-held political view is that a government must govern for all the people, and not just for the majority. My #2 most strongly-held political view is that we must have both religious freedom and freedom of speech in this country. However, freedom of speech does have some very sensible limits.

The SCP wrote to me, and being a conscientious voter I took the time to carefully read their material. On the last page, they spent several hundred words decrying a recent change to Scottish law that limits freedom speech. So, I should agree, right?

Except that the change to the law they were complaining about is that it is now illegal for a teacher to tell a teen who thinks he might be homosexual that his orientation is "offensive in the eyes of the Lord". Seriously.

Here's the thing: I absolutely maintain that a person can hold that belief if they see fit (I happen to disagree, because there's a whole lot of context that I believe renders that assessment flawed, but there we go). I also absolutely maintain that a person has the right to express that view.

But you don't go telling a scared and confused teenager something like that. And don't try feeding me the classic line about hating sin but loving the sinner, either. That's a very fine distinction, and one that our hypothetical teenager isn't going to hear. What he'll hear is the trusted adult telling him that he's some sort of freak. Good one.

There's a whole lot more I have to say on the topic of homosexuality, and especially as it intersects with my faith, but I'm not going to post them until I get my thoughts all neatly organised. Officially, since I'm straight, and therefore it doesn't affect me, I don't have an opinion. Unofficially, of course, I have an opinion on just about any topic you care to name.

Laptop

I'm posting this from my exciting new laptop, which I bought with mybonus money. It's quite a lot of fun. However, even with just the documents I'm transferring across from my main PC, I've just about filled one of the hard drives, which is a matter of some concern. I'm also really not a fan of Windows Vista, and have found that setting up a new PC so it looks and feels like I want it to is a long and drawn out process.

Still, if I ever find the time to set it up properly, it'll be great.

Elections

I am now infuriated at our political process. As of now, no Scot will ever again be able to mock the Americans for their ineptitude in running elections. Grr.

How dare they?

Doctor Who isn't on next week because of the Eurovision Song Contest! In what sort of a world is this a good thing?

The day Wikipedia let me down

Et tu Google? Then fall Stephen!

One of the more valuable lessons I learned at university was how little I know, compared with the vast bank of knowledge known to the human race. (I also learned that the vast bank of knowledge known to the human race is miniscule compared to the set of all knowledge that exists, a lesson that even some very smart academics could do with learning, but that's another rant.)

However, one of the tricks I know for always appearing more knowledgeable than I really am is the ability to research effectively. This has allowed me to work out such diverse things as the specifics of the Competition Act, the time when a particulr Welsh rubby club is on TV, and on which channel, and so forth.

Anyway, I am a firm believer in the notion that with Google available, every question is an easy question... so it was rather a shock yesterday when it failed me.

I had been invited to a birthday party, a party I had decided not to attend because I didn't actually know the person, nor she me, and I was pretty sure I was only invited out of politeness (since everyone else at the band was invited). However, on Thursday I was called by a guy at the band, who explained that they were trying to put together a mini-band for the event, and were really short on people - so could I possibly attend.

Foolishly, I neglected to ask where the "ICI club" was to be found. But no matter - with Google every question is an easy question, right?

Wrong. It turned out that the "ICI club" was more properly known by some other name, which meant the BT directory enquiries didn't get a hit. Google searches for "ICI club Falkirk" established that the club was, in fact, located in Grangemouth... but nothing more.

In the end, I did find the place, but without the assistance of the Internet. No, instead I was forced to resort to a Jedi mind-trick. I went to Grangemouth and drove around until I saw a likely sports centre, whereupon I went inside, smiled at the receptionist, and asked for directions. Problem solved.

As for the night itself... it wasn't a classic. I'm currently exhausted, having had to work long hours all week, and having had to work today and last Saturday (and, my holiday was cancelled this week :( ), so that didn't do me much good. And, as anticipated, I didn't really know anyone there, and they all knew each other, which proved something of a problem.

On the plus side, I was nominated as the Pipe Major for the evening, and did that bit of my job quite well. (My actual play was lousy though. Oh boy, was it bad.) Still, never mind.

How I voted

Just a quick follow-up to my epic post about the election.

In the event, I voted Lib-Dem for the main poll, because they were the party for whom I had the least compelling reason not to vote. I did, however, find it rather galling that they were also the only major party to completely fail to campaign in this seat; I imagine they have determined they have no actual chance of winning. (On the other hand, of the parties who did campaign, only the Tories managed to send me something that didn't offend me. Labour and the SNP spent much of the campaign insulting one another, rather than talking about issues, and the 'Christians'... well, I'll cover that in another post.)

In the secondary vote, I also voted Lib-Dem, although here I was tempted by the Greens, the SNP (briefly),and also for one of the 'Christians'... but only because I had learned that that party had actually withdrawn!

For the council election, I voted SNP, both because I'm actually reasonably happy with their running of the council here, and also because the sticking point for me, independence, is a non-issue at that level. Plus, a socialist agenda at council level is actually quite a good thing, since they don't have too much power to absurdly inflate taxes to little real benefit.

So, that's that.

Cash flow... not a problem

It's always nice to find you have more money than you previously thought.

This week, Scottish Gas finally sent out my bill, which wasn't entirely nice. However, it was less than half of what they had previously attempted to charge, and was about a hundred pounds less than I had expected and set aside for that purpose.

Nice.

Then, today, I received my pay slip for this month, and found that the bonuses had been paid out. Given that I hadn't realised until recently that I might be getting a bonus, this represented a few hundred pounds that I didn't know I had.

Very nice.

Now, obviously, the sensible thing to do with this money is to take it and place it in my ISA, and keep it nice and safe, and collect lots of interest. So, I'm not going to do that.

But, on what shall I spend this windfall? A big party? A myriad of silly hats? Or perhaps a part share in that Death Star I always wanted...

(Actually, I'm going to buy a laptop, but that's probably less fun than any of the other three options.)

One year ago today...

Well, technically, it was only 52 weeks ago today, but philosophically it was a year... I started my current job. It has been an interesting year, not least because the last time I had 12 months of continuous employment was in 2002. I've also had my first pay rise in six years (as opposed to getting more money for switching job).

Things at work are actually good now. I'm really busy, and really stressed, but I'm also doing some good work, making a real difference to the team, and quite enjoying things.

Now, if only the rest of my life could be as settled...

The day they slew The Dragon

Those of my readers who know me will be aware that my #1 hobby is role-playing games, and specifically the Dungeons & Dragons game. (Yes, I am a geek; that's pretty much a matter of public record.) The major reason I haven't mentioned it here before is that I in fact had another blog entirely dedicated to the subject, the now-defunct ruleslawyers.

(There is a certain controversy surrounding the game, which has been blamed for causing suicides, and even been accused of being Satanic. Obviously, if there was a shred of truth to these accusations, I wouldn't be playing.)

I first started playing in 1988, courtesy of a club run in the school. And, of course, I got into the game in a big way. The following summer I discovered Dragon magazine, one of the two official magazines supporting the game. Since then, I have read the magazine on and off (mostly on), and between the issues I own and a CD archive they did of the rest, I now own all but a handful of issues. I even read the magazine in those spells when I wasn't actually gaming, as has happened a couple of times. So, that's almost eighteen years, and more than half my life.

Yesterday, the publishers announced the cancellation of the magazine, and also the sister-publication Dungeon.

I'm just stunned by this. The magazines were actually in a golden age, and the sales figures were doing really well. And despite this, cancellation. And to think that, come September, they'll just be gone...

Some questions answered

It being Wednesday, I thought I would take this opportunity to answer a few questions I haven't been asked lately. It may be informative, or perhaps not.

So, where are the frogs?

Currently, under my bed.

Huh?

Nope, I'm not going to explain that further at this time.

Oh, okay. What is it you do for a living, exactly?

I work in a secret government complex, where we are breeding a mutant strain of ambulatory cactii, which we then intend to train in desert warfare. I am, of course, not permitted to talk about the nature of my work. For that reason, of course, every statement in this paragraph is a lie.

Ah! Isn't that a paradox?

Actually, no. It's just a lie.

That doesn't make any sense.

I know. But that's not a question.

Fair enough. What's with the cactii?

Well, I actually do have a cactus, now called Jeremy, that really does sit on one of my shelves between Optimus Prime and Darth Tater. Other than that, there's nothing much about cactii. Chine Mieville featured a race of cactus-men in his Bas-Lag novels, and they were pretty cool, but that's about it.

And what's with the frogs?

Well, that's a long and odd story. When I was about ten, my parents decided it would be a good idea to start calling me 'Frog'. Quite why they did this is a mystery - my parents are entirely crazy. As a monument to this new and exciting form of cruelty they had elected to inflict on me, my mother and grandmother then proceeded to buy me about a dozen frogs of various sizes, shapes and constructions for each and every birthday, Christmas, and other occasion in the meantime. (Huh. Turns out I did explain the 'under my bed' comment. Oh, well.)

I did buy one item of frog-themed memorabilia, which is a green t-shirt with lots of brightly coloured frogs on it, which I wear when I really want to freak people out. I got it in Arkansas (but not from a strip club), and knew when I saw it that if I didn't buy it I would forever regret the decision. The second most interesting thing about this t-shirt is that it is 'Large', which is the same size as all my other t-shirts, yet comparing it with the others, and especially with the 'Large' t-shirt I got from the Asterix Park in France shows a quite remarkable difference in size.

Feeling especially heroic

This week, I have stridden across my world like a conquering titan. At work, I have fixed a whole raft of problems, finally got back to my 'real' task, and generally impressed (me). At band, I found myself once more in a position of significance as again the pipe major and second instructor were absent (and, curiously, the quality of the band as a whole rose...). Having cleared out my 'to-do' list last week, I've not had any niggling worries to deal with. And I started looking towards booking my holiday for next month - I'm probably off to Prague for a few days.

Yes, life is good.

Of course, this almost certainly means I'm being set up for a major fall. I fully predict that by a week on Wednesday I'll be depressed again. We'll see.

"You're looking well..."

This is something I've had said to me on more than one occasion (curiously, always by somewhat older women while in church). I'm pretty sure it's code for "you're looking fat." Oddly, people have also often been surprised when I've commented that I'm feeling under the weather, because they generally think I'm 'absurdly healthy'. Weird.

Anyway, the reason for this apparent health is largely due to my diet, which genuinely is pretty good. (Those same older women have generally added to their remarks that I'm "obviously eating right". As I said, it's a secret code.) In fact, my colleagues (and a number of other churchwomen of my acquaintance) are frequently surprised by this, because their assumption is that, as a single bloke living alone, I must eat pizza every night. The reality is that I do eat pizza about once a week, but then, I do like it a lot, and after all, why not?

But the rest of the time, I cook for myself. And, as I hate pre-packaged foods (as noted in one of the first posts in "Part Two", as it then was), that means putting in some effort. And, as with everything one does often enough, I've become pretty good at it. (Actually, I was pretty good when I started. Spectacular would be a more appropriate word now.)

But, for all that I've cooked for myself for nearly two years now, and despite the wide range of things I have turned my hand to (with mixed results - my beef stroganof was a particular failure), I have until now been denied one of my favourite foods.

But no longer! As part of my feeling especially heroic this week, and in celebration of being presented with an exciting new dish by CJ, tonight I cooked up my first lasagne.

Huzzah!

And it was good, although I did note a couple of things I should do better next time.

There is, however, one significant problem with living with such genius. As I noted in a post in January, I could probably do with losing a bit of weight. (Plus, there's the code, of course...) But, how is this to be done when the food is so good?

Who to vote for?

In a couple of weeks, Scotland goes to the polls for the third set of elections for the Scottish parliament, and while I have become extremely disillusioned with the whole concept of devolution it remains my intention to vote. Not because I hold the view that it is somehow my democratic duty (I hold the contrary view that if you can't explain why you're voting a particular way, you have no business voting at all), but rather because for the first time I'm in the novel position of having a vote that actually matters a damn (one of the dubious benefits of living in a Labour stronghold until now is that it never actually mattered before).

But, who to vote for?

This election appears to be a two-horse race between the centre-right Labour party and the left-wing Scottish National Party. We also have a centre-right Tory candidate, of course, and the Lib-Dems are in there, set to continue their roles as kingmakers in Scotland. Plus, there are a bunch of minor parties to consider.

The election around here has been particularly vicious, with the Labour people writing to me to deplore the socialist actions of the SNP-run local council, the SNP writing to me to curry my support for independence, and both teams employing crack teams of ninja to take down the other side's posters, and put up posters of their own. It's all very exciting.

My voting history is also relevant, so here it is: In 1997, I voted Labour, and regretted it. The promised new dawn didn't really materialise. I then voted in favour of Devolution, and for the Scottish Parliament to have tax-raising powers, and have come to regret that also. In the first elections to the Scottish parliament, I voted for an ex-Labour Independent, and Lib Dem for proportional representation. Since then, I have always voted Lib-Dem in every election. (As noted, I lived in a Labour stronghold, so this had the advantage of not actually mattering a damn.)

But, what of this time?

Well, let's look at the minor parties first. Probably the most relevant to me is this new Christian Party that has cropped up. But I discard them right away, because it is actually my strongest-held political belief that a government has to govern for all the people, not merely those people who believe as I do, and so I don't feel there is actually a place for a Christian party any more than there is for a Muslim party, an Atheist party, or anything else. (Plus, of course, there is the key question: are they really a Christian party, or are they just claiming to be? I don't actually care to find out, for the reason given above.)

Then there are the raft of socialist parties. Once upon a time, we had the Scottish Socialist Party, who actually had the distinction of properly believing in the principles they claimed. Then, they set about a nasty bout of in-fighting, shattered into lots of smaller parties, and ended any dream of socialism without independence in Scotland.

Which is irrelevant, since I was never going to vote for them anyway, for two reasons. The first is that the second most recognisable in the then SSP engaged in a childish publicity stunt when taking her oath of alleigance after the previous set of elections. Frankly, she should have been barred from the chamber after that until such time as she was willing to take the oath seriously. I have no respect for that sort of thing, and so they won't get my vote.

But the second is that I don't actually think socialism really works. Its great in principle, but it suffers in practice because too many people are simply lazy, and too many people are simply corrupt. It only takes a fairly small number of people to play on the system, and it falls apart.

Then there's the Green Party. They're a 'maybe'. The problem with their agenda is that I don't believe a single thing we've been told about climate change (on any side of the debate), which leads me to believe it's either being used as a cyncical vote-winner by the big parties or, more likely, we don't really know what's going on and are taking our 'best guess'... which is a really bad thing to base policy on. The other major problem with green policy is the same problem faced by socialist policy, but on a global scale - the things we would need to do to actually combat Global Warming are fairly radical, and unless the big powers in the world (the US, China and India being the most important) anything we do is a drop in the bucket. Worse still, unless every country implements the rescue package together and equally, those who do implement the policy will be at a crippling disadvantage compared to those who don't.

In short: the planet is doomed.

Which brings us to the main players: the Tories, Labour, the Liberal Democrats, and the SNP.

I'm going to discard the Tories from consideration. Ironically, when one looks at their stated principles, the Tory party is probably the closest to my own views. Unfortunately for them, I disagree with every single one of their actual policies, and don't trust a single one of the individuals involved. So, they're out.

I also have to discard the SNP. I like a lot of what they've said they're going to do. Smaller class sizes is long overdue, and the NHS badly needs more money. And I'm not fundamentally against a moderate tax-rise to pay for it... except they've claimed they're actually going to cut taxes, which leads me to the conclusion that they've got their sums badly wrong. In 1998, Gordon Brown claimed that there were huge efficiency savings that could allow more money to go into services in schools, hositals and the like without raising taxes, simply by cutting red tape, but that failed. The reason it failed was that the very people who would need to do the work cutting that red tape were the same people whose jobs existed because of that red tape. Only an idiot or an idealist will work himself out of a job.

The other SNP policy that bugs me is their idea of a local income tax to replace Council Tax. As a relatively high earner, I'm in the group of people who would actually pay more under that system. As a single man with no children, I'm also in the group who gain least from council services - I get garbage pickup and water supplies.

But, the principle is that those who earn more, and so are most able to pay, probably should pay more. And it's a principle I actually do agree with - it just sucks being in precisely the wrong group.

So, the SNP's economic policy must be wrong. But, actually, I might vote for them despite that, except for one inescapable point where my position fundamentally differs from theirs: independence.

If the SNP gain power, it is their intention to hold a referendum on independence. It is my expectation that they would win such a referendum. It is also my contention that that would be an absolute disaster for Scotland. Our economy, even if we get all of the North Sea Oil, just isn't self-sustaining. We have a tourism industry, and we export quality graduates.

But it's not even that issue that leads me to oppose independence. There's also the matter that an independent Scotland in Europe really won't amount to anything. As part of the UK, we actually have some presence on the world stage, especially with so many Scots in important roles in the current government. (I do think the UK should be a lot more involved in European matters, rather than generally standing on the sides and frequently complaining, but that's another topic for another day.)

But that's still not the reason why I oppose independence. In fact, it's a combination of two things: in terms of identity, I'm a Scotsman, but I'm also a Briton, and I don't want that to change. Plus, there's the bond of family, which is extremely important. (And which would have gone without saying, and hence would have remained unsaid, except that several members of my family read this, and would have been rightly offended at its omission.)

(I'd best note at this point that I'm also not going to vote a particular way to prevent a particular party gaining power. I really hate that approach. I'll vote for someone I do want, or I'll not vote at all. I won't be scared into voting Labour because otherwise the SNP might win.)

Which leaves Labour and the Lib-Dems. But I don't like current Labour policy at all, and I especially don't like the fact that they get so many votes from people who have always voted Labour and will always vote Labour, despite that Labour now does not stand for the things it stood for when I was at school. (I also noted, on my way back from the opticians this morning, that Labour have now stooped to bald-faced lies in their campaigning. They have a poster on the way into Falkirk that claims that the SNP will cost the average family an extra £5,000 per year. The average household income is £28k, so this represents a tax increase of 17.8%, which is utterly absurd. Even if the SNP sums are wrong, and even if the Labour calculation for the SNP promises is what they claim, the SNP wouldn't impose such a burden - they'd back off on their other policies first, not being totally insane.

And that brings me back to the Lib-Dems. Where, tragically, I run into a major problem. It is likely that this election will again lead to no party having an outright majority, which means we'll get another coalition. And, since Labour and the SNP will never form a coalition, and neither will ally themselves with the Tories, this means we'll get either a Lib-Lab coalition again or an SNP-Liberal coalition.

This would be ideal, especially the latter, and especially if the Lib-Dems were able to persuade the SNP that they should have at least a full term in office before moving to the referendum on devolution. That would be ideal. Sadly, the SNP have stated they're not interested in a coalition under those terms (and, to a certain extent, I say good on them for sticking with their principles). And the Lib-Dems have stated they won't enter a coalition unless the referendum is binned.

And that means the only coalition is a Lib-Lab one, and it means that any vote for the Lib Dems is effectively a vote for Labour.

And that brings me back to where I started? Who do I vote for? Or do I not vote at all?

What I did at the weekend

It is quite strange being at work on the Tuesday after Easter. Last year, my final day at work for my previous employer was the Thursday before Good Friday. I spent the Easter weekend driving north, and had a week of house-hunting before starting my new job. The year before that, my contract with my then-employer officially expired on Good Friday (although I had that day off). The year before that, I was unemployed, and the year before that I was working on my MSc. So, it's not since 2002 that I've had to work on 'this day'.

I had half expected to have to work on Saturday, and indeed yesterday, but the powers-that-be here were doing extensive work on the phone systems, and I therefore couldn't come in in case there was a dinosaur attack (which happens more often than you might expect in these parts). Clearly, you can't be dealing with roving velociraptors while the phones are also not working. We don't even use UNIX.

Anyway, confusing Jurassic Park references aside, Mr Hammond and I found ourselves at home. I cannot speak as to his choice of activities, but I took the opportunity to burn through my entire 'to-do' list. So, I cleaned the kitchen. I cleaned the bathroom (horrors!). I wrote a reply to the people who are handling my pension from last year's employer about what I want done with the funds. I did my weekly shop. I cooked four days' worth of food. I saw a man about getting my bagpipes fixed. I even wrote to the NHS (finally), asking them to allocate a doctor and/or dentist for me.

The rest of the weekend was spent watching TV and various films I had recorded from Sky. "Derailed" is a bad film. I knew it was a bad film when fifteen minutes into it I saw the 'big twist' coming clear as day. That it took fifteen minutes to get to the point where the two main characters are even actually talking was a bad sign, especially since the whole thing was less than two hours.

"Casanova" is also a bad film, although not as bad as "Derailed". As a hint to the film-makers: when dealing with a man who according to legend had 10,000 lovers, it might not be the best idea to shoot for a '12A' certificate. Additionally, it is probably not a good idea to hinge the plot on the question "will he get the girl?". But then, when the plot was as incredibly stupid as that one, I suppose it doesn't matter. The redeeming feature of the whole thing was that at least it was reasonably amusing in places.

Then there was "Blade: the Series", "Doctor Who", "24", "Lost", and Harry Hill, none of which disappointed.

All in all, it was quite a successful weekend.

Nedmobiles on Parade!

On my way home from band tonight, I found my way barred by a most unlikely sight. It seems the local youth had decided tonight was the night to engage in their pasttime of cruising around town in their tricked-out rides, hoping to impress the ladeez. So, there they were, a convoy of cars, replete with the fancy wheel trims, the spoilers, and the loud exhausts. Very impressive.

Sadly, they had miscalculated in two ways:

Firstly, they had neglected to realise that putting a loud exhaust, a spoiler, and alloys on a car is all well and good, but it really counts for nothing if you can't actually afford a decent car to put them on. Otherwise, it just shouts "look at me! I'm a wannabe!"

Secondly, they hadn't realised that, from a driving around perspective, Falkirk is really badly designed. So, when you have a convoy of six cars cruising around town, the mere presence of so many cars on the road causes the whole thing to grind to a halt. And, no matter how fine your ride, it tends to look rather pathetic when stopping and starting its way through the streets.

Me, I have my eye on one of those new BMW 3-Series hardtop convertibles. It's not a car I would ever actually drive, but it's fun to think "what if"?

(Why is it not a car I would drive? Well, it's about four times too expensive. I'm inclined to do much the same for my next car as I did for my current one - buy something two or three years old, and then run it until the wheels fall off. That said, I'm hoping to get three more years out of my current car before I have to make that decision.)

Sagas that Never End...

I've just phoned the optician, and I'm going to have to take the glasses in to have the measurements checked. Which is fine, except that Saturday is the earliest I can go, and then there will be however long it takes them to fix the problem, and so on. The mystery of why the sunglasses are fine has been resolved, though: the main pair were ordered in while the sunglasses were done in-house. So, it seems likely that the order was placed incorrectly. Which wouldn't surprise me in the least.

But, I did say sagas, didn't I?

Remember my incorrect gas bill? Well, the end result was that I got a letter from Scottish Gas promising that they would rectify the problem, calculate a fresh bill, and send it out to me no later than the 9th of March. When I get home, I intend to phone them to ask why I still haven't received said bill. I mean, if they don't want my money then that's fine with me, but I would quite like to know that.

Seems I'm not due a good day after all :(

Today was all set up to be a good day. True, I had to come into work, but I'm getting paid for it (unexpectedly - I was under the impression that my contract said otherwise). Plus, at work I was just getting to the bottom of the last 'distraction task' before getting back to my 'real task', which was quite nice. But first, I had an errand to run - my new glasses should have arrived, so it was time to pick them up.

When I got to the optician, it was mentioned to me that a message had been left on my answering machine. Which is nice, except that I received no such message. And, since I have no roommate, and didn't delete the message myself, that means my answering machine isn't working. This isn't a huge surprise, but does add one more annoyance.

Anyway, I got my new glasses, which are much like my old glasses except with slightly darker frames. Also, being made of titanium, the frames are at once lighter and stronger, which is good to know. So, I put them on...

and immediately knew something was badly wrong. Every single thing was out of focus, and I found my vision swimming. But, of course, it could just be that my eyes needed to relax and work with the new lenses, not against them. I was advised to try them out for a couple of days, to let my eyes adapt.

Well, I wore my old glasses for the drive to work, of course, then switched to the new ones. Two hours later, I've had to switch back. Its true that my eyes adapted, and I was able to focus on things that were directly in front of me. And, it's true that those things were in slightly better focus than before.

But the peripherals, ah, the peripherals are useless. Basically, anything that's slightly off-centre is out of focus. Plus, I now have a splitting headache, and then there's the nausea. Badness.

I'll try them again tomorrow morning, to see if it makes any difference if I wear them as my only glasses for the day, but I'm not hopeful. It looks like something has gone wrong with my prescription and they'll need changed.

So, work.

I got to the office and found I have been assigned two more 'distraction tasks', both of which are adjudged to be even higher priority than the previous 'distraction task'. Looks like I'll not be doing any 'real task' work for a few more days, then.

Looking into the first of these, I was quickly able to replicate the problem, which is the first step towards solving it. Plus, I have a good idea what bit of code needs added, and even at what part of the code it needs added. But, can I find this latter location in the code? Not a chance.

Gah!

Oh well, at least the test I ran overnight worked.

My Marvellous Monde Musicale

Some time ago, my friend Graham and I were talking about how wonderful it would be to live in a muscial world - a world where the common man would spontaneously burst into song about the mundane events of his life. For example, in the morning a person might be moved to sing:

I'm drive-ing, driving to work!
Other drivers conspire, in my blind spot to lurk.
It gravely concerns me, for I cannot see them,
when I'm drive-ing, driving to work!

(Catchy, isn't it? The air guitar solo is a bit worrisome, though.)

Anyway, we both agreed that this would be a fine thing. However, I did worry that there might be some resistance. After all, given the quality of so many of our professionals, how bad must the common man be by comparison?

However, there is a solution. Clearly, attempting to convert the whole world in one go, it makes far more sense instead to convert only a small part of the world, thus creating, for example, a Town of Music. Thereafter, we could gradually expand the borders, gradually annexing outlying regions. You know, one aria at a time.

Yeah, I'm not going to touch that one...

An obsessive reader of my blog would yesterday have seen three different versions of the previous post. In the first version, I wrote something that, read in the manner intended, seemed okay. However, it could be read another way, that was very definately not something I wanted to say. So, a couple of hours later, I revised the text to say something else. But, although the new version was better, it still left me rather uneasy, and so I took down the offending paragraph entirely.

I have decided not to revisit it at all. The topic that is touched on is rather grim and depressing, and although I have strong opinions on the matter, actually expressing those opinions runs a very great risk of saying the wrong thing. And, given the nature of the topic, I feel it is therefore best to say nothing at all.

Five Fascinating Facts

The challenge: to post five facts about myself that you, gentle reader, don't know. Naturally, this is quite difficult, since some of my readers know me very well indeed, which limits the field greatly, and some of the things I haven't shared with anyone I haven't shared for rather good reason. So, tricky...

Still, I have five that I think you won't know (although some might suspect):

1) The one and only peice of careers advice I got at school said that I was underqualified for the job I am currently doing. For some reason, they omitted "go to university" as one of the options when answering the question "what do you intend to do after leaving school". This wasn't the first time I was sure some of the people at that school were muppets, but it might have been the first time my suspicion was confirmed.

2) At night, before going to bed, I have to neatly fold up the clothes I have been wearing, or I can't get to sleep. Even more ridiculous, when the time comes to drop the dirty clothes into the washing bin, I have to fold them up first before doing this!

3) Every time I have been in a strip club, I have made a profit. I should probably explain...

I was in Arkansas, visiting an old friend, and on the evening I arrived he (in concert with his brother-in-law and a random cousin) decided it would be a good idea to drag me off to a strip club. Actually, to be technical, it wasn't a strip club, but rather a titty bar. (The difference being: in Arkansas there are licensing laws for two types of clubs. Strip clubs have a strict "no touching" rule, but serve alcohol. Titty bars do not serve alcohol, although you can certainly carry in your own drinks, but you're allowed to touch anywhere the girl isn't clothed.) As we were going in, random cousin gave me a bunch of dollar bills, about $8 in all.

It was not a good night. The beers selected by random cousin for consumption that night were Miller Lite with reduced carbs, and were possibly the single worst beers in the entire world. Certainly, they were the worst I've had the misfortune to consume. For the rest of it... (I've deleted the rest of this paragraph. It bothers me a great deal. I may revisit at a later time.)

(The funny thing is, I'm not even particularly opposed to the notion of people taking their clothes off for money. It's just a business, and rather more honest than some. Though that sort of diversion is not for me - I'm an eye-man, and anyway prefer a woman I can actually have a conversation with. Shockingly, the strippers were disinclined to talk, and their eyes had all the excitement and passion of the bored professional.)

So, I forced down a couple of Miller Lite, studied the advertisement/place mat things (and hence my intimate knowledge of Arkansas licensing laws), complained of being far too tired to properly enjoy myself, and tried to ignore my senses. And, by the time we left, I found I still had one of the original dollar bills.

So, as I said, profit.

5) For many years, my CV listed a qualification in cake decoration. I still hold the qualification, since it doesn't expire, but no longer list it on my CV.

4) (You thought I was cheating, didn't you?) I have never been in a nightclub. Incidentally, this means I have been in more titty bars than nightclubs, which is slightly concerning on an academic level.

So, there we go. Anyone know any of those fascinating facts?

That's a long way!

Just a micro-post today, to announce the completion of another of my long-held ambitions. This morning as I was just moving onto the motorway on my way to work, my car hit 100,000 miles.

I cheered.

I'm now moving onto my next long-held ambition. However, I'm rapidly running out. I think I'd best develop a few more ambitions, just in case. And ideas?

Why is it...

that when I wear my BB top, people always ask me whether I was or still am in the BB, but when I wear my Kenco top nobody asks me if I was or still am a mug of coffee?

The Queen

HMV are clearly pure evil - I went in to try to find a suitable Mother's Day present (usually, Mum gives a guide as to what she would like; this year I've had to do my best without - I'll let you know how I got on tomorrow), and came out with £50 of DVDs for myself... and that was after I decided not to buy the other half dozen I wanted. When it comes to films, my tastes are many and varied. I particularly like a good action film... but I don't think anyone has made one since Con Air. But, never mind; the ones I bought were Seven Swords, which seems to be a Chinese of The Seven Samurai (also The Magnificent Seven), Borat, since it was on special offer, Pan's Labyrinth, which I wanted to see but missed in the cinema...

and The Queen. In case you don't know, this is a film starring Helen Mirren as the Queen, and deals with the events of the week following the death of Diana.

Now, normally, when a film wins lots of Oscars or Baftas, this means it's an incredibly depressing film in which really bad things happen to people who may or may not be particularly nice, and often with a hint of 'special interest group' influence. Generally, it is not an indication that the film is in any way worth watching.

But still, it was a film of interest. I distinctly remember the week in question. I was in church when I heard that Diana had died, and it was a bit of a shock, to say the least. On returning home, I found that every channel had a non-stop diet of coverage of these events, and very little real information. Then came the outpouring of public grief, which I considered largely over-the-top (I was actually with the Queen on this one), and the key statements from Earl Spencer and Tony Blair (before the dark times really began)... and then Candle in the Wind.

And I remember the attacks on the monarchy of that week. For a few days there, people really didn't like the Queen, and there seemed to be a mood that we might actually be about to get rid of them, the like of which I have never seen before or since. And then it just evaporated the moment the Queen made her live statement. Ironically, Diana may well have saved the monarchy.

(And, since I'd best address this, my politics as regard the monarchy are complex. In principle, I don't like the concept of monarchy, or inherited priviledge at all. However, I don't believe it's enough to simply clamour for the removal of the monarchy; one needs something to put in its place, and I've never seen a better idea put forward. Certainly, the last thing we need is another batch of useless and corrupt politicians to not vote for. Furthermore, for as long as we haven't gotten rid of the monarchy, I'll take the stance that she remains the Queen, she remains our head of state, and that as such she has claim on my loyalty. As I said, it's complex.)

So, anyway, how is the film?

Actually, it is excellent. The characterisations ring very true, and Mirren really sells the role of Queen. Of particular interest, however, is that none of the characters with the exceptions of the Queen and Tony Blair come off at all well. Cherie and the New Labour people are particularly unpleasant, while the Windsors seem wrapped up in this bizarre little world, oblivious to everyone and everything else.

Tony Blair is a character I've come to dislike over the last ten years. I voted for Labour in 1997, and not since, because back then I really did believe that things were going to be different. It was odd to be reminded that once upon a time he was incredibly popular, and he actually makes almost all the right calls in this film. It's also fun to watch his attitudes to the monarchy change as the film goes on, changing from enjoying his rise at their expense to finally taking direct action to prevent disaster. But the very best part of the film comes at the end, when the Queen points out to him that one day the public may turn on him as they had on her.

And then there's Helen Mirren as the Queen. This must have been a very difficult role, because she is a very private person, and she always does seem quite stoic in her manner. So, how do you portray that without seeming wooden? Well, she does.

The other odd reflection I came away with from the film centres around a scene where the Windsors have a picnic on the Balmoral estate, and the trappings of the meal, the food that was available, and some of the roles that were adopted were all hauntingly familiar. This was a scene that I could have seen playing out in exactly the same manner with my own grandparents a few years ago. Which is perhaps also telling - I have actually met the Queen on one occasion, and my overriding impression then was of how strongly she reminded me of my own grandmother. It's all a bit odd.

Anyway, I highly recommend this film.

Sporting crisis

When it comes to sport, and England, I adopt a strict policy of 'I don't really care'. I take the view that the English team are on the field of play to represent England, and being as I am not English, therefore, they are very little to do with me. Win, lose or draw, it's all the same to me... mostly.

(Rant about the English media deleted. It would probably upset some people, and is entirely tangential to the subject at hand.)

Except cricket. Cricket is the one sport where I actually do support the English team, for two reasons. The first of these is personal, and has to do with my relationship with my father, and will not be elaborated on further in this post. The second reason is that, to all intents and purposes, there is no Scottish cricket team, largely because a test match takes five days, and the Scottish weather therefore makes just finishing a match cause for celebration. (Naturally, real cricket is test match cricket. But that's another rant for another day... and probably one I won't even bother with.)

Which brings us to the Cricket World Cup... in which Scotland are due to be roundly thrashed by Australia today. And let's make no mistake - we are going to be roundly thrashed. (Not that there's any shame in that. "Oh, no! We lost to the best team in the world!")

Which leaves me is something of a quandary. See, if Scotland actually are in the tournament, then I really have to support them. Dulce et decorum est, and all that. Yet, I can't really support two teams, because that just makes me a dirty two-timing cheat.

What to do, what to do?

Bad Science

Last night's dinner conversation was about global warming, and in particular the Channel 4 documentary that attempted to disprove it. The theory goes that climate change is on a 75-year cycle, and so the current rise in temperatures is entirely natural, and not the massive problem we currently fear.

To which my answer is: possibly.

But what is pretty clear is that the science that underlies this programme (and, indeed, virtually everything you ever hear about global warming) is bad science. The people involved have taken a subset of the available evidence, moulded it to fit their chosen hypothesis, and presented it as 'proof'. It is, of course, nothing of the sort.

But I'm not surprised. You have to work really hard to get access to good science these days. Good science is built as follows: Develop a hypothesis. Then build an experiment to try to disprove it. If your experiment fails, then that acts as a supporting point in favour of your hypothesis. If your experiment succeeds, your hypothesis is wrong. (Oh, and if you're doing a comparitive study, change one thing. Don't have your kids take a dietary supplement, and fix their diets, and take more exercise, and then claim the dietary supplement improved their brane development.)

Incidentally, this is where the saying "the exception that proves the rules" comes in handy. Testing 'normal' cases against your hypothesis isn't going to get you anywhere - you wouldn't develop a hypothesis that was obviously wrong in the first place. Instead, you try the hard cases... or, if you will, the 'exceptional' ones. If the tests at the extremes work as expected, then that serves as a very strong indicator that your hypothesis is correct. So, the saying means the direct opposite of what most people think it means.

However, all of that is a fairly lengthy aside from where I was intending to go with this. Instead, my topic of choice: evolution.

This has become a major battleground between religion and science. See, the theory of evolution does not require the existence of God for life to have come into existence (it doesn't preclude it either, but some scientist then like to refer to Occam's Razor as 'proof' therefore that God doesn't exist. That Occam's Razor proves exactly nothing, and in fact makes no claim to do so, seems to elude them). So, significant numbers of people of faith are absolutely determined that evolution must be wrong, and will stop at nothing to have it discredited. And, they are absolutely insistent that it must not, under any circumstances, be taught to children.

On the other hand, we have the scientific community. Large portions of which take this as a personal attack on their profession as a whole. And, there is therefore a significant push to see evolution regarded as a matter of incontrovertible scientific fact, to which they will brook no opposition. (And, of course, it must be taught to children because, you know, knowledge is good.)

And here are two inconvenient truths that seem to have been missed by both sides: 1) Evolution is almost certainly correct. 2) Evolution is almost certainly wrong.

The first statement is based on the incompatibility between the mass of available evidence and the nature of the God believed by the men of faith who oppose evolution. In order for evolution to be false, they must pre-suppose a God who deliberately created the world, then went to great effort to not only hide his influence and existence, but even put in huge amounts of effort to indicate to the contrary. That seems a very strange world-view to be taking.

The second statement is based on the very nature of science. Newton's theories about gravity were superceded by Einstein's relativity, which itself looks to be replaced by string theory. So it is with evolution: what we think happened is probably reasonably correct in some aspects, but will almost certainly be shown to be incomplete in several areas, and simply wrong in others. (There are also some major holes in evolution, not least the jump from an ape-like ancestor to a human-like one. There are a number of ideas on how that could have happened, but no clear evidence as yet.)

In the meantime, we're stuck between bad science on all sides. 'Creationist Science' is a joke, and a bad one at that. But so too is any excessive assurance in the correctness of evolution - it's not a matter of scientific fact, but rather the 'best fit' theory we currently have.

(At some later time I may discuss last week's Sunday conversation, in which Richard again shows his weakness with probability. And, also, in which I dissect "Deal or No Deal".)

Getting my money's worth

When I moved into my apartment in Yeovil, it being the first time I'd lived alone, I purchased two exciting new non-stick saucepans. Such was the excitement surrounding this event that I felt it could pass entirely without comment, either here or elsewhere. But, time passed, and one of the saucepans lost its non-stick property. And, as it is written "if a pan shall lose its non-stickiness, how shall it be made non-stick(y) again?"

And so, I made my way to Tesco, as is my wont, and purchased a new non-stick saucepan. Whereupon the old should have been consigned to the outer darkness, where there is wailing and clattering of condiments.

However, it was at this point that genetics got in the way. See, my father always balks at the notion of throwing away a perfectly good saucepan (or, generally, other item) just because it has been replaced and will never be used again. After all, you never know when it might come in handy. What if I can't be bothered doing the washing up for three days?

So, anyway, I have added the dead saucepan to my stack of dead cooking implements, where it joins the first frying pan I purchased.

Still, the momentousness of this event should not be over-stated. It really wasn't worthy of comment until now.

Last week, I was sent to France from Wednesday to Friday. And the hotel where I was staying was almost fully booked, so I had to change rooms after the first night. And, on that first night, I was booked into a 'luxury' room, and on the second I enjoyed a 'standard' room. All very exciting, I'm sure you'll agree.

The difference was truly remarkable. The luxury room had two televisions! Sadly, one of these wasn't plugged in, and so just took up space. Also, there was nothing on, even accounting for the language problem, and when I did discover the Manchester United match (and determined that I could just about become a Man U fan for one night, deeply shameful as that is), the channel only went and lost reception exactly fifteen seconds after kick-off!

Additionally, the luxury room had a COMFY CHAIR, presumably just in case I needed to interrogate someone or make them confess. Alas, Pythonesque as it would have been, I lacked any tea of nice biscuits to offer a potential captive at Elevenses.

But the big difference was the most difficult to deal with, for the luxury room had two single beds instead of one double bed. This caused no end of difficulty, because clearly it was my duty to ensure I got my money's worth from the room (despite that my company were actually paying), and that meant utilising the facilities to their fullest extent.

It was not much fun having to wake up a 2:30 in the morning to swap to the other bed.

The Squirrel Ballet joke

Note: Graeme has threatened that if I ever tell this joke again, he will kill me. So, if I suddenly go quiet after this, you'll know what has happened.

Anyway, for his 60th birthday celebrations, my family whisked our father off to Barend Holiday Village, a holiday park in Dunfries & Galloway where we had spent several summers in '89, '90 and, I think '91, as well as some Easter holidays a bit later on. There we spent the weekend engaged in all manner of fun and games, somehow avoiding the festive arguments that normal families seem to engage in at times like this. (Sadly, Paul wasn't able to make it, on account of working that weekend. But, other than that, the whole family was there.)

The site had a pool, complete with sauna, on it, and on the Saturday, while making my way from the pool back to the chalet, I chanced to see the local squirrel population, which was in rehearsals for their part in the site's weekly entertainment, a variety performance put on my the local fauna.

For their part, the squirrels had decided to entertain through the medium of ballet. Naturally, they were doing a selection from the Nutcracker Suite.

Making Cheese and Salad sandwiches, the Stephen way

1) Open the fridge, and take out the tomato and cucumber.
2) Realise that, being an idiot, you've forgotten something. Open the fridge, and take out the apple you're going to have with lunch, and that therefore you need to wash.
3) Then, open the fridge again, and take out the bread and cheese.
4) Make sandwiches, and hope no-one ever finds out.

Anthropomorphic Biscuits

On a whim, I bought a packet of Happy Faces biscuits in Tesco last week. Truly, they are the finest of biscuits. So sweet and tasty.

My favourite is the one with the sly mischievous grin. It looks at you as if to say "Go on! Eating a whole packet in one day won't kill you! And no-one need ever know! And we're so sweet. Mmm, biscuits!"

Mmm, biscuits!

A good night at band

Yes, it's true. Tonight, I actually had a really good night at band.

Of course, a large part of the reason for this is the Mr Instructor wasn't there. This meant I got to spend an entire evening without having faults picked in my play, such as my playing a tune I've known for fifteen years really badly (um, yeah, okay), or that my 'D doublings' were sloppy... in a tune that doesn't have any 'D doublings'. So, that was quite nice.

But the other reason was that the pipe major wasn't there, which somehow worked out to me being effectively in charge. This was quite nice, because it enabled me to use both my DEEP MIGHTY VOICE (complete with authentic Scottish accent, to make the ladies go all tingly), and also my PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWERS.

All in all, it was quite fun.

"Wonn! Two! Three! Three Leetle Vowels. Ah Ah Ah!"

I have been away, but behold! I have returned!

Sorry for not posting for a while. Work has been just mental lately, and since I can't even post details about it, I've been left without much time to post, or topics to post on.

Anyway, now it seems that work, thwarted in their attempt to get rid of me by my returning from France, are now considering sending me to a whole other continent! And not one of these friendly continents, either - one brought to you by the letter 'A'! Still, I may be able to avert this disaster, potentially by just not showing up in the office for a few days, and hoping they'll forget about me. It's so crazy, it just might work.

Huh. I didn't see that coming.

In the ultimate TV coup, Sky are now showing both 24 and Lost on Sunday evenings. Last night was the first such showing, and I was of the opinion that they had them in the wrong order: Lost should be the warm-up act followed by the marvellous 24.

Little did I realise that 24 would pretty much suck, while Lost was really really good.

The problem with 24 this week was that they telegraphed all the plot twists. I saw every one of them coming a mile off, and that's not a good thing.

The problem with 24 generally this season is threefold:

1) The real-time format is gone in all but name. This is a huge mistake - there was a lot of tension in the first season that came from characters getting stuck in traffic at vital times... which you don't get when Jack can drive across LA in fifteen minutes.

2) Before the season started, Jack spent many months in jail being tortured for information. Immediately before the first episode, he was on a plane from China to LA. I don't care how mentally tough you are, you can't go from that to being a superhero. It was bad enough in the first couple of seasons, when Jack neither ate nor visited the bathroom (and barely slept); here it's just ridiculous.

3) I'm getting really sick of Jack's refrain "don't make me do this." Torturing suspects is wrong, regardless of the circumstances. It might occasionally be necessary, but not with the regularity with which Jack uses it. It's about time someone stepped up and said to Jack that he's now so far off the rails that he can't even see the track now.

In completely unrelated news: never visit Friends Reunited. It will always appear that everyone you know is doing much better than you are, no matter who you are. This may well be because the people who aren't don't post there, but that's small consolation.

From nobody to over-exposed in one easy show

I don;t know about anyone else, but I am getting really sick and tired of hearing about Shilpa. While she was in that house, she was obviously being victimised, and there genuinely was a story there, albeit a very unpleasant one. And, in fact, it was a story that needed to be told - the racism in much of our society is hidden far too often.

But ever since she's left the house, she has done... nothing of note. And yet, we've had an endless stream of tabloid news stories, endless pictures and articles in magazines, and an endless stream of adverts for the same, all desperately telling us the story of "What Shilpa Did Next". And none of which have any merit.

In short, she's become over-exposed, and she's done that very very quickly. (And the irony is that it's so completely unnecessary. She's allegedly a skilled actress, so she could very easily do something worthwhile. My advice? Go make a movie, or a TV show of some depth, or something, before it's too late, and you become just another vapid celebrity, famous for being famous.)

For me, the point where it all got ridiculous was when she was invited to the House of Commons, and met with the Prime Minister. Presumably, for her insight into racism and how to tackle it. Which leads me to the question: when am I going to get my invitation? After all, I not only have a perspective on racism, and advice on how to eradicate it from our culture (in short, you can't; don't even try), but I'm also a British tax-payer and a voter. So, where's my opportunity to speak with the powers that be in this country?

Of course, it would be utterly inappropriate for me to suggest that all this attention is being paid to her simply because she's a good looking young woman. I'm sure if it was an average-looking, middle aged man the coverage would be exactly the same.

Just as I'm sure our MPs were in no way influenced by the media circus surrounding Shilpa when they invited her to the Commons. I bet every child of Indian extraction who suffers racial bullying in school will one day receive a similar invitation...

Yeah, right.

Ah, tact

Sometimes, I wonder if anyone else really exists. I sometimes think the universe would make more sense if I actually was plugged into some sort of Matrix-esque machine that projects an illusion of the 'real world' into my mind. And it would really make more sense if I was in some sort of "Better Than Life" game controlled by my subconscious, given that my subconscious actively hates me (honestly, did it really need to wake me up every 90 minutes last night?).

In addition, there are those individuals I have met, and those that I have not met. These include the people who I've met online, the people I interact with on message boards, and almost everyone you see on TV. I have an even harder time believing in the existence of these people - as far as I know, these could very well be creations of the supercomputer trying to drive me mad, rogue AI running around, or whatever.

So, anyway... my 'cactus blog' post was meant to be funny, because who wouldn't find the reflections of a plant amusing? The stuff about people keeping blogs for their pets was supposed to be a bit of funny context. (And, I don't recall actually writing anything bad about such people, I just commented that it was strange there were so many of them.)

But, it appears Welsherella was upset by that post, as she is amongst those who blogs for a pet. Therefore, despite having never met her, and therefore not really believing that she exists, I would like to take this opportunity to appologise for any hurt I may have caused.

(Apparently, some people are a bit touchy about being told they might not exist. Just in case, therefore, I'll just point out the title of the post, and my comment about 'funny context'. It may be possible that I don't really think that, after all.)

Treading the Paths of my Youth...

I've just suffered the most profoundly painful experience. At the weekend, I got a letter addressed to me, but really intended for the band I ran before I moved to Yeovil. Which necessitated my going there tonight to give them the letter.

The week thus far has therefore been dominated by one question: what would I find there? When I left the band, it was in reasonably good health, but as often happens when a strong leader leaves, the band then suffered a bit of a tough time, with a number of prominent people leaving. And then I lost touch completely. So, what would be there?

Well, I was pleased to find the band in good health, probably slightly stronger than when I left. Many of the students I taught are still there, and they've improved noticably (a good thing, really - it's been almost two years!). There are also a number of new people, who seem keen to take the band forward, with an ambition of competing in two years. And the core remains strong. Celia is still there, but she seems to have essentially delegated all the tasks of actually running the band, and teaching the drums - which is a good thing, since at 84 she isn't really fit to be dealing with snotty kids.

So why was it so painful?

Being back at that band served as a strong reminder that, once upon a time, I was young, and Good, and if not happy then at least content. I achieved more there every week than I've managed in the last two years, and I actually mattered there, where now the world would miss me not at all if I simply ceased to be. It hurts to think of how far I've fallen.

Compounding the problem, Celia and the new pipe major made a point of asking me if I wanted to come back. The pipe major even offered to step aside in my favour, as if that would be what I wanted. It was horrible seeing that hope in Celia's eyes, as I knew I had to refuse, and the reasons I gave sounded really hollow in my own ears even as I gave them.

But how do you explain? There are three real reasons I can't go back. The first is that it wouldn't work - unless I were pipe major I could only be poison for the band, and as we know, when a manager goes back for a second stint it's never as good as the first time. The second is that shortly after I left, there was a problem between the band and my brothers, where the band made the mistake of demanding money from them for the right to come and help the band out at their engagements in the year. And, although all the people in the band who made this mistake are now gone, there's still unresolved hurt there that would make any return difficult to justify.

But the real reason is that I'm just not that person any more. Before I left, I was not only running that band, but was instrumental in the running of another band, and was basically running the top section at the local BB company. I was out every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. And getting even a week off was extremely problematic. People were reliant on me; I had to be there. Naturally, that left no time for relationships; it didn't even leave time for me to look.

But that was okay. I had a promise that things would work out ("if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us."). That held firm even when I lost out on a chance with a girl I really liked, simply because I just could not make the time. Had I known that it would be three years before I next went on a date, my priorities would have been different, and to Hell with the whole world, but never mind that. I was reasonably sure I was where God wanted me, doing what God wanted me to do, and He would be faithful in time.

But the man who went to Yeovil was not the same man who returned. I simply do not have that faith any longer. ("Which of you, if his son asks for... a fish, will give him a snake?") She exposed how alienated I was, how isolated I had allowed myself to become, and how wretchedly lonely my life is. She offered me just a glimpse of happiness... and then took it away.

The thing is, even that I could have dealt with. But for the last year, every time I have met a girl who is even interesting, that very moment she has moved jobs, become a missionary to Outer Mongolia, or been abducted by aliens. Every single time. (Except one - there was one girl I met the day I had handed in my resignation down south. Somehow, that doesn't help.) Once or twice, and it would have been funny, but not every time for a year.

So, my faith in the promises of God is essentially gone. (Alas, my faith in the existence of God remains, so I can't just become a total hedonist.) And, without that faith, I cannot commit my time and effort to anyone. I won't leave others in the lurch by breaking commitments - but if given the choice now, I choose myself over the world. And so, there's no way back.

Blogging for my Cactus

A strangely large number of people seem to keep blogs for their pets. In many cases, I suspect these don't get updated, as many people thought "I know, I'll keep a humerous blog for Tiddles!", and then lost interest.

Anyway, I have no pets, which denies me the opportunity to create a blog for said pet. I did briefly consider starting a blog for an imaginary pet, but decided that that would just be going so far. But, how to get in on the fun?

Well, the only other living thing in my appartment (apart from the creepy-crawlies) is my cactus. It doesn't have a name, on account of being a cactus, although it does have a rather spiffy plant pot. So, I did contemplate starting a blog for said cactus, feeling it might be quite amusing trying to capture the particular prickly sense of humour of such a thing.

Then I realised that every single entry would be the same thing:

"Once again, I find myself atop the shelves, keeping silent vigil. The tense standoff between Optimus Prime and Sorcerer on Black Dragon continues without respite. My attempts to lighten the tone by whistling some Western 'standoff' music were thwarted once again by not having a mouth. I am, however, making significant progress in my mastery of mime. I rather wish Stephen would open the blinds before he leaves in the morning, so I could enjoy the view out the window, but no such luck. Crikey, it's cold in here. I'm so bored."

Some people might think that that would be rather more entertaining than my own blog. You are invited not to comment to that effect.

Then again...

I ran out of things to do about 3 o'clock on Friday. Yesterday, the only reason I got out of bed was that I needed the toilet, and once I was up I was up.

It's really not much fun when your weekend seems to mostly consist of waiting for Monday. (Although, I do have a tale to tell about Next which I might share in a quiet moment next week.)

Always nice when the week ends on a win...

This post was going to be called "How can that be the highlight of the week?" and was going to be extremely depressing. But things have turned around since I got home. It's also been a while since I ranted about a company messing me about... so that's what you should expect.

On Monday, I ran into a traffic jam on the M9 that turned my leisurely 34 minute commute into a near 3-hour epic. This really set the tone for the week, and would have been counted the highlight but for recent events. That should show how truly woeful the week has been.

Work has been a matter of fixing all the bugs we found in testing last week. These were annoying things like, "why does it crash once the test is finished?" and "why does it not work properly?" Trivial little things like that. It's generally been a pain, since I really wanted to put that bit of work behind me. Still, it had to be done. I also learned this week that the project that has been cancelled twice appears now to be truly gone, which is no bad thing, except that it means leaving it unfinished, which bugs me on a metaphysical level.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself. There's some background info you need before the next part of my story makes sense. I got paid on Friday. I therefore took the opportunity over the weekend to pay off the balance on my credit card, which was artificially high because of the money I spent in France (which I will get back at some future time from the company). As is always the case with these things, the bank immediately deducted the money from my current account, but didn't apply it to my credit card until first thing on Thursday morning. This is intensely annoying, but can't actually be helped, and is irrelevant to the story anyway - all that matters is that that money was in 'limbo'.

On Monday, my gas bill finally arrived. Id' been waiting for this for some time, and fully expected it to be pretty high - eight months of gas won't be cheap. But, on reading the amount, I was absolutely horrified, and began the inquest as to why.

Well, it wasn't much of an inquest. As I'd been told, they had estimated my initial reading from May. However, having used the reading taken in October and the reading taken in January, they'd come up with an intial figure of 00000. Never mind that everyone uses more gas in winter than summer, and never mind that that figure was obviously wrong.

So, I called them. It was an obvious misake, I thought, and surely they'd correct it? What an idiot I was! Of course the figure must be right - a computer had calculated it! In fact, the girl even took the precise value at that moment from me, and stated that this was totally in-line with the calculations. My objection that "January is still winter" apparently didn't count for much.

You'd think that was bad enough, but the situation is actually worse. I am lucky enough to have to hand the last bill from the previous tenant. According to which, the estimated meter reading from July last year is 01095 units. So, in fact, I wasn't merely defending my position with logic, but also had real evidence. Of course, that doesn't matter when dealing with a company who are in the process of charging you for not using more than 1,000 units of gas. They absolutely could not discuss the previous account holder's bill in any way, shape or form. Nope, the computer was obviously right.

Well, I was stuck. They weren't going to budge, and since I couldn't actually prove my wild claim, I would have to pay. And, I would have to pay before the 8th of February, because that's when the money was due. (The option theoretically existed to refuse payment, and fight them in court. Unfortunately, that would tie me to this appartment until the case was concluded, which might be years. Not an acceptable option when I'm planning on moving as soon as possible.)

So, how to pay? Well, it would need to be by credit card - I don't keep enough money in my current account for that sort of an emergency (one business day earlier, and it would have been fine, but as it was...). So, she transferred me to the appropriate person...

whereupon I suffered the embarrasment of habing my credit card declined, because the funds hadn't cleared. Still, no matter, I arranged for them to call me back on Wednesday, when that would be sorted out. (Can you see where this is going?)

I then proceeded to write a nasty letter of complaint to the company's complaints department, informing them that I would cease doing business with them as soon as I was empowered to do so (not in this flat, alas), and would never return to them.

Tuesday was a bad day, because I was still extremely angry about the events of the night before. Plus, I was having to miss Richard's birthday celebration for the second successive year because my game was on, and I couldn't cancel two weeks in a row. I drove the hour and a half to the game, only to find that it was cancelled because three of the people had had things crop up at the last minute. Naturally, it's too much to ask that they actually phone me to let me know not to waste my time!

Wednesday saw the repeated embarrasment of not being able to pay my bill again, because the funds were not yet transferred. When I explained this to the girl at the gas company, she accepted that it was a problem, but said that if I didn't pay they would start sending debt letters, and a late payment fee would apply! It's a good thing I wasn't already annoyed at them, else I might have shouted a stream of invective once I'd hung up the phone. Oh, wait...

Anyway, first thing on Thursday morning, I checked my bank, and found that the money had cleared that morning, precisely one business second too late to actually help me the night before. Brilliant.

I phoned back that night, and tried to use the automated systems to pay the bill, only to find that their automated systems only accept debit cards. Apparently, it's too difficult for the computers to understand sixteen whole digits from the front of a credit card. (The sixteen digits on the debit card are inherently easier to understand.) I tried going through the menu system to speak to an actual person, but was put on hold for too long, so had to hang up.

But today, things turn around. I phoned again, intent on just asking to be put through to pay the bill and have done with this disaster. But, I thought "what the hell?" So, when the phone was answered, I explained the situation again, explaining how there had been a mistake in May that led to me not calling them, explaining that the estimated value was wrong, and explaining that I had the previous bill, and the estimates therefrom. I suggested that, just perhaps, there might be a mistake?

Well, apparently, it was just about possible that the estimate might be wrong. After all, people do tend to use more gas in winter than in summer. So, the girl said she would have the values corrected, and a new bill issued. The likelihood is that I'll save something like £300.

Huzzah!

Better still, I don't have to pay until the revised bill is issued, which may take up to 28 days... placing it just after payday. Now, what's the betting it doesn't work out like that?

Tick tock

I get to leave work for the weekend in ten minutes. Unfortunately, I ran out of things to do just after 11, and couldn't start on next week's tasks because they're dependent on other people. And I can't leave early because my timecard says I'm here until 13:18.

Tick, tock...