Friday, November 30, 2007

11.30 ITS A JOLLY HOLIDAY


Salma's one of those people who has trouble supressing her holiday glee. Adam's one of those guys who loves the spotlight.

Hence the goofy picture.

I tried to capture the mounting Christmas spirit - Salma with her gingerbread latte; Adam, with his shortbread biscuits, and always looking jolly for the camera.

We warmed up this afternoon with some hot drinks and festive treats. It was a warm-up to the holiday season, the day before the calendar turns and we can all stop containing ourselves. We barely can.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

11.29 BOILING POINT

Even Jake is impressed.

I've mastered the method,
the impeccible boil of an egg, producing for my dinner a gooey golden pond, for my multigrain soldiers to dunk their toasted toes in.

I nailed the sweet potato "chips," to boot.

I am expecting a colour for my courage, having braved the bubbling broth without even an egg timer to guide the execution.

For now, I'll enjoy the just reward of dipping in.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

11.28 PRELUDE TO MUNICH

December is around the corner and the German Markets have long been open in the city centre.

Bratwurst is piled high in the market stalls where keepers keep warm with their hands over grills, their mitts folded over their hands, exposing their figer tips like sausages hanging out the end of a bun.

My mouth waters, but my mind wanders to my upcoming holiday in Munich where I'll be meeting casey. It wanders long enough to hold me from buying a pretzel or a slice of marzipan. I'm saving my appetite for the real thing.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

11.27 SOMERSET CIDER


It looks like a tank of gasoline - then again it could be transmission fluid, the colour of a murky red concoction.

It won't make the car run - but it keeps my housemates going into the late hours.

It's Somerset Cider. A draught notable for its sharp flavour and its tingle on the tongue. Jake brought it back from his hometown near Bristol where the best of this intoxicating apple juice is made.

A sample of both the dry and sweet versions left a not-so-bad taste in my mouth. The gasoline jug makes me think you can guzzle it like gasoline - but I was wise enough to sip slowly.

Monday, November 26, 2007

11.26 MONDAY MORNING

The morning sky was remarkable. This picture doesn't do it justice - the clouds reflected the rising sun against dim indigo sky beyond a horizon of trees transitioning in colour and red brick houses illuminated by the reflection.

Rises like this make it a lot easier to roll out of bed on a Monday morning.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

11.25 MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS


One man’s privacy is another man’s press. In other words, you never know when somebody might be digging through your trash, stealing your photo, or scanning your hard drive for intimate details. In the UK, there is not law protecting privacy and as a result this basic human right is never guaranteed. While the law itself is not sufficient to protect privacy, a consensus that privacy is a fundamental right has caused the courts to seek its protection through alternate means. A degree of privacy protection has been achieved outside of the courts by self-regulatory bodies, and within the judicial system via the Human Rights Act 1998 (HRA) and the common law of confidence. Nevertheless, there are limitations to the extent of protection and redress offered by these means which could be addressed by a tort on privacy.

Spent the entire day - a rainy day - writing this essay. The choice 138 words above are the intro to the 3000 word assignment. Now that I read back, I can't believe I squeezed the word "nevertheless" in there. Those sorts of weary exhalations often emerge in my writing when I'm working on a gloomy day...however, nonetheless, moreover, additionally, furthermore...

I'd better get back to work...

Saturday, November 24, 2007

11.24 CLONEY-CLONE?

Rarely do I watch TV. But tonight it was homework. My housemates endured a science documentary on medical sciene while I reviewed. Here it is:

VISIONS OF THE FUTURE: THE BIOTECH REVOLUTIONAired on BBC Four
Wednesday, November 14, 2007

A clone of a clone. A cloney-clone, in the words of Texan longhorn cattle rancher Ron Marquess. It’s a chromosomal replica of his prize heifer and it’s coming to a farm near you – a genetic farm, that is.
Scientists can breed the perfect cow. Why not engineer the ideal human being?

We’ll start with the bladder.

Dr Michio Kaku, New York’s popular science author and futurist, explores the possibilities of biotechnology and genetics in the eerie but enlightening programme.

Test tube organs and stem cell marrow are among the medical advancements already prolonging human life. A genetically-farmed bladder is nourished under ultra violet light until it is needed to replace a worn and torn original. The same can be done for a heart, a lung, a liver.

The possibilities are as long as the large intestine, but how far will we go?
The question was brought to light as Dr Kaku among a host of scientists, ethicists and one radical trans-humanist debated the future of medical science.

The topic is profound and the programme was heavily scientific, but it centred on a number of thought provoking issues. Still, the gist of the drama is in the Pietre dish and Dr Kaku is no performer – unruffled by the gravity of his DNA forecast and barely moved at the mention of designer babies, the subdued researcher followed the script like the scientific method.

Friday, November 23, 2007

11.23 DISORDER IN THE COURT


Its Friday. But not the typical newsday Friday. Today we made our way to Nottingham's Crown Court to practice our shorthand while various yobs and chavs pleaded guilty or defended their innocence.
I'm not going to elaborate - I still don't trust my understanding of media law enough to definitely avoid contempt of court. Next thing you know I'll be writing out my own sentencing in shorthand while I stand in front of the Queens Bench...
I admit, I am an amateur. Indeed, this was my first visit to the courts - to any court - ever. There was an uncanny juxtaposition in the behaviours of the regulars at the bar: the judges, the solicitors, the reporters, and recorders - and the public in attendance. While there was a somewhat disciplined formality in the tone among the professionals, the lay persons were all quite raucous and seemed oblivious to any general conventions in conduct of the courtroom.
The attempt at orderly conduct lead to a sort of forced disorder. Confused friends and family wandered in and out of courtrooms. Doors banged shut while people tried to close them softly. Whispers were augmented within an attempt at silence.
But the greatest disorder was on my own piece of note paper. There, scribbled in illegible symbol, was my shorthanded court report.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

11.21 OSMOSIS

We're still at Bar 11.

The Black Russian has had a bit of time to circulate. It has improved my photograpy.

That's one theory. Perhaps I have gained better skills through some sort of trans-cranial osmosis as I am surrounded by a room saturated with eagle-eyed creative minds.


Otherwise, it must be the few tips Sean has imparted after watching me fiddle and fumble with my digital cam.

For insteance, he promises that this angle will reveal our double chins - I should take from above if I want to disguise chin flab. But I am determined that I have none.

Look closely? One chin is all I've got. Pictures don't lie. At least not the one's that I take...

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

11.20 BAR 11

This is the line up at Bar 11.
I joined my housemates and their friends here for a few drinks. It is The place to be on a Tuesday night if you are a camera-toting NTU student.

I thought I'd try and swing some fancy photographics myself with this one. Nice try, yeah.
What you can barely see along the frontline is a bottle of Khalua. Not far along I spotted the Grey Goose. Its there on the right in the shadows.
I asked the bartender to make my Russian water black - with a cherry on top.
The orange lighting gave a lovely glow to my favorite drink. An amateurish picture wouldn't do it justice.

11.20 BOX OF LOVE

I walked in the front door and nearly fell head over heels in love.
Not that kind of love.

The kind of love your mother imparts by post over land and sea just to make sure you're okay. The sorta love your sister sends from across the Atlantic just to remind you that you're not too old to celebrate your birthday with colourful plastic shades on.

I opened the door to nearly trip over two parcels - special deliveries from overseas. I was expecting the package from my parents but the post from Clair was a surprise. The contents of both were beyond me. When I tore through the tape I found all sorts of goodies including a combined total of 14 chocolate bars.

Enough to keep this egg soldier fed for a while.

The unwrapping and unravelling was like a cross between an early birthday party and Chrstimas morning. I shamelessly tore open the packages. Gleeful, Elated. Loved.


Monday, November 19, 2007

11.19 BANANA PANCAKES

Banana pancakes. Just because.
Just because its not very often I have them anymore.
They were good.
But they're better with molasses.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

11.18 A MAN'S WORLD?

Some say journalism is a man's world - but I've encountered both women and men in high places in this industry.

Still, the UK is plagued by workplace inequalities among men and women - and its a priortiy for worker's unions - the NUJ included - to put an end to this.

Yet I find myself at the NUJ conference having dinner among a gander of guys - the gaggle of girls poised and powdered across the dining area at a separate table. I felt more than welcomed and perfectly at ease among the men - and indeed blame the circulating testosterone for my near miss at an order of blood pudding with liver and onions for dinner. I settled for the chicken roast, despite the urge to show these boys how to eat like a woMan.

It was a lovely evening and by the end of it both sexes emalgamated in the lounge for a few drinks and an impromptu song and dance. But I got to thinking where the naturally tendency to segregate emerges and where it ceases to exist.

I also got to wondering whether any of the girls had braved the blood and liver.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

11.17 NUJ WORKSHOP

A FLEET of enthusiastic students are poised to establish NUJ chapels at their own academic institutions following a weekend workshop in Bournville...

read more at: http://www.nujtraining.org.uk/page.phtml?id=7580&category=advice&finds=0&string=&strand=

Friday, November 16, 2007

11.16 HOT POT

The house managed to organize enough to get together for dinner and a movie tonight. Well, a movie then dinner.

We saw the "epic" Elizabeth: The Golden Years. It's the sequel to the original film about the virg queen starring Cate Blanchet. I thought it was remarkable in that it stirred some emotion - besides the feeling of hunger stirring in my stomach.

After the film, we made our way the a place called the Hot Pot. Its an international buffet near the Lace Market area of Notts with a lineup of Indian, Thai, Mexican, Italian and British style food - among others.

I've always been partial to buffets, for three specific reasons:

1) Buffets are antisocial. At any given time, there seems to always be at least one dinner guest missing at the table. They can usually be retrieved at the dessert bar, deciding between chocolate torte and blackcurrent pie;

2) Buffets are unhygenic. More hands have been on that chocolate torte than you can imagine. More germs have been expired over that blackcurrent pie than you want to know. I say stick with the fruit salad for some antioxidants. You might need a boost. And finally;

3) Buffets encourage gluttony. You always have the third option of digging into the chocolate tort, taking off with a slice of blackcurrent pie, and topping it off with a heaping helping of fruit salad. Andy why not take a dip at the fondue while you're at it.

Before tonight it had been over a year since I last ate at a buffet-style restaurant. I have to admit, the atmosphere here was great and the food was good enough that I tipped over the gluttonous edge. It satisfied the grumbling growl in my stomach - a meal fit for a queen, or an entire Queendom if you will.

I'm sure Elizabeth wasn't partial to buffets so who am I to complain.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

11.15 BINGHAM

It's been a while since I left the city. Every now and then I need a bit of travel - even if it isn't very far and wide. Sometimes a hop, skip and jump is satisfying enough.

Consider the day in the county I spent with Casey and Jen this summer. Never would have supposed that a day spent in Leamington and Essex would satisfy my exploratory needs.

This afternoon, I made my way through the countryside to Bingham. It's a small town just east of Notts. The visit was more work than lesiure - I was there for a story interview. At the same time, it was nice to see this quaint place, to remind myself that there is more to Nottinghamshire than Notts itself.

When I arrived, the sun was setting on Bingham. The red sky burned brightly off the Mapperley made bricks of old buildings. Mongers in the sqaure were taking down their market stalls and I caught the last glimpse of what seemed to be a true farmer's market - one where the clientele are the farmers! They were selling rakes and garden tools (gardening - farming...close enough), birding equipment and mechanical tools. No vegetables in sight - but seeds and fertilizers galore.

I passed through Bingham, took a breath of fresh farmers air, and made my way back to the city after an afternoon's work.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

11.14 ROYAL THEATRE

Running errands in the city, I zipped passed the Royal Centre, stopping briefly to snap this photo.

I pass the pillared structure nearly every day but this afternoon, something about the theatre caught my eye. It deserves mention as a landmark arts venue in the UK. The historic building dates back to 1865, was remodelled just before the turn of the twentieth century and is currently undergoing review for further refurbishment.

I have yet to sit snug in its one of its cushy chairs amidst its Victorian green and gilt interior. When the annual pantomime tours through Notts I'll be there. I was hoping to see a Christmas performance - the Nutcracker or a symphony but a visit will have to wait. For now I'll continue to admire the dramatic outer shell.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

11.13 LA BEAUX

JULIE SANDS is starving for her artists. “The other day, my accountant said I must be insane,” she declares. “I don’t have any more savings left.” But a dire financial outlook hasn’t suspended this determined entrepreneur from her plan to expand La Beaux Art, a gallery which she established to support local talent.

The quaint building on Woodborough Road in Mapperley just barely houses the work of over a dozen independent artists. Corner to corner, the walls are covered with paintings and drawings, photography and sculpture. Shelves are adorned with hand-made jewellery, woodwork and glass.

Behind the cash counter is a stack of work – idle, unseen. There is no room left to display these. Julie explains: “I won’t survive in this tiny, tiny place. There is too much art that I have to turn away, which I really don’t want to do. And I vowed never to put anything on the floor.”

Since the summer, Julie has been negotiating a lease with the owner of the residential flat above her shop. It is due to be signed this week.
Once she takes over the space, Julie’s blueprints will finally come to life. A photography studio and classroom are among her plans, along with a garden. But above all, additional wall space will allow her artists’ larger pieces to reach the eye of potential beholders.
Julie was 40 when she discovered her own artistic eye.

“My mother-in-law bought me a set of pencils and a notepad,” she recalls. I sat and drew little pictures of a wall in the garden and hung them in my toilet. Everyone said ‘Wow! Who did that?’
…and I said it was me.”

A friend encouraged her to take lessons and develop her skill. For just £1 – a cup of tea included in the fee – Julie attended a community centre art group in Mapperley once a week. At these weekly meetings, Julie was quick to identify an inconspicuous gathering of skill. “I just realised how many talented people were there,” she said. “But none of them had ever sold their work.”

“It seemed so sad that despite all of the galleries in Nottinghamshire none supported local artists. I thought it was about time someone did.” In 2005, Julie gave up work as an administrative assistant and opened La Beaux Art.

Alan Wilson is a framer and photographer from Sherwood. He stumbled upon Julie’s gallery a few months after it was opened. “It was by chance that I walked over and introduced myself.” Prior to meeting Julie, Alan had worked for another framer for 10years. He began mounting work for other artists and regular customers at La Beaux Art, and eventually branched out on his own. Today, Julie’s gallery is his main outlet.

“Locally, Julie has given a lifeline to not only a number of experienced artists, but to beginners and those who have never sold anything in their life,” says Alan. “On the other hand, established artists are more than happy to sell their work through her as well as through other sources.”

Still, Alan believes the project is in its infancy in terms of developing the market for local artwork. With plans for a bigger gallery, he expects it will have an even greater impact. “I think it’s a fantastic idea she’s come up with,” he added. “It’s been two years of hard work to get going and I’m extremely hopeful that it will now take off.”

But trying to sell art isn’t the easiest thing to do. Just ask John and Maeve Wright. The self-taught couple from Mapperley have mastered the use of various mediums – including acrylic, watercolour, and oil. It is John’s dream to practice artwork full time, but instead he works at Sainsbury’s. Maeve was a schoolteacher until 2001, but is now painting full time.

“Julie’s really interested in our art, and in me,” she says. “It’s helped to have someone promoting our work instead of just ourselves. We’ve got a good relationship with her – but not just in a business way. She’s just a friendly person trying to help others. It’s what the area needs – it’s what everyone needs. Without Julie there wouldn’t be an art dimension in our lives.”

Ten years after Julie sketched the wall in her garden, she is drawing up blueprints for a bigger art project. The task does not come without a challenge. “My idea, apart from helping local artists, is to make art affordable,” she explains. To achieve this, she must keep the costs of her business down to a minimum.

“I really struggle to survive, but I’m so determined to make it work,” she adds. I have emptied all my savings, I have sold my house. It isn’t about the money. It’s about the people involved and the fact that I can help them. It’s a chance I can give them. I can’t change their lives, but I can give them hope.”

Julie has a hopeful plea of her own. Once the contract for her lease is completed, she will be able to apply to the Nottingham Art Council for funding. Still, she believes that more resources should be available. “The government needs to help people like me – small businesses. It is hard to survive with so many big bills. What I am doing isn’t just about me, it’s about everyone in this gallery, isn’t it?”

I look around. There are a few people peeking inside the gallery through the window. Otherwise, it is just Julie and I. Yet it’s a full house with a lot of hungry mouths to be fed. Is that Julie’s stomach I hear growling?

Monday, November 12, 2007

11.12 EGG SOLDIERS

You are what you eat. I feel safe in knowing my house is guarded by a troop of Egg Soldiers.

The rate at which soft boild eggs and sliced toast is consumed in our house is reinforced by the fact that EggSoliders has been adopted as the name of our wireness network server, that Maddy has picked up an egg shell shearer from a kitchenware store, and that we don't bother to store our egg holders in a cupboard but leave them within easy reach in the frontline along our countertop.

Spoons in hand, butter shielding bread - the breakfast battlefield is waiting.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

11.11 BOYS IN BALLGOWNS

Once again, it's me and the boyz tonight. A few of the ladies showed up a bit later in the evening but weren't here in this very room with me to encounter the spectacle of a group of guys in fancy dress.

I've made mention of the "fancy dress" party in a previous blog entry and won't go into too much detail besides to describe briefly how it transforms a person.

I watched (and captured on camera) this rare moment, when boy meets bathing suit bottom; man meets makeup. They took to the fancy dress as naturals - as if accustomed to strapping on stillettos and styling their locks. They even helped one another get all dolled up, making sure pins were in place and zippers were done up tight. And at one point, each of these grown men stood in front of the mirror and gave their gurny a sideways glance before applying the last tough of lipstick. Amazing.

It was like being a spider in the room of a boys-only slumber party. Is this really what happens when there's way too much testosterone in the room. After they were dressed and ready to resume their manly method of chugging beer - albeit while seated comfortably cross-legged with their pinky's pointed - I asked a few of them what it was about the 'fancy dress' that made it such a habitual happening.

I was told: "Dressing like a woman is liberating."

If you say so buddy. I'll stick to slacks (yeah, slacks - pants mean underwear here).

Saturday, November 10, 2007

11.10 CHARDOLINI

It's me and the boyz tonight. Sean has a group of friends visiting from his hometown, near Bristol. We ordered in - Chinese was the choice. The meal came complete with a bubbly bevvy called 'Chardolini.'

The bottle wasn't small and it only reminded me of Chardonnay because it tasted bad so I can't quite explain where the name comes from. It was more akin to a cross between Sprite and champagne.

In any event it was enough to toast to Sean's upcoming birthday and enough to wash down the sweet and sour chicken balls.

Cheers to Chinese and Chardolini?

Friday, November 9, 2007

11.09 BIRTHDAY REMINDER

As if I needed a reminder that I have turned twenty-six and eleven-twelfths. That means I'll be hitting the big two-seven in only a month. That also means I'll be hitting up BK for a whopper in just 30 days.

I was in the library searching for books on privacy law when this one caught my eye (and you know how my eye likes to wander when I'm in a library...). If I had the time of day I'd definitely give it a good read. I've got the cover shot here (which according to privacy law might not be legal - but it could fly because the circulation of my blog is limited - besides, it's advertising for the author) in case I want to go back and pick it up.

But a glance was good enough to judge the cover as good enough to induce a Pavlovian moment as the countdown to my birthday begins (not that i'm counting, really...).

Thursday, November 8, 2007

11.08 ADLs

Activities of Daily Living (ADLs). They are physical tasks that keep old people fit.

Take, for example, carrying the groceries. For a post-menopausal granny, this could help keep the triceps toned and the bone density in check.

Gardening is another. It keeps the joints limber and is a serious springtime calorie burner.

I have begun to rely on ADL's myself. How do I explain myself? Only recently I was logging 80k/week on runs, cycling nearly half that distance, and bone building with weights in the meantime.

Either I've grown lazy or otherwise I am old enough to begin to count these random exertions as exercise. Both possibilities worry me.

In any event, at least I have these ADL's or I wouldn't come close to Canada's Physical Activity guide standards. It's a shame for a kin graduate.

I caught a glimpse of my exercise equipment in this shot. A combination of cycling and stair climbing are getting my heart rate up and keeping my calves strapped. I use the bike I solely for commuting at the moment - with barely enough time for leisure rides it is a true ADL. As for the stair climbing, you're looking at the first leg of several flights to the attic where my room is.

Those are some serious METs for a granny workout right there, wouldn't you say?

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

11.07 CHRISTMAS COOKIES CAN COME EARLY

...and just one more gastronomical reason to visit Spain. Maddy whipped out these seasonal anise cookies - a Christmas treat from Gibraltar.

In their candy wrapping, each cookie is a small token - a gift.

While it irks me to see store shelves lined with tacky tinsel and random christmas ware before Halowe'en has even passed, I stand firm in believing it is never too early to bring on the Christmas cookies...(and never to late to be eating Halowe'en treats for that matter...)

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

11.06 SPANISH OMELETTE

Maddy arrived home from a visit to Spain this evening. Somehow, I'm suspecting through Gibralter, she managed to smuggle a Spanish omelette into the UK. I think the greater feat was actually arriving here with her grandmother's home baked dish in one perfectly round piece.

It was still warm when she sliced through the smooth crust. In tact, it looked like a full moon - a light oil glistening, golden, and with darkened spots that could be craters from a distance.

It was soft in the centre, fluffy, with a hint of olive oil - I could have gobbled up the entire thing.

When the moon hits your eye its...its no big pizza pie...

It turns out its a Spanish omelette.

Monday, November 5, 2007

11.05 BONFIRE NIGHT

Its bonfire night. There's a massive pit aflame in the Forest and its drawn an equally massive crowd. Wish I had a massive stick with a massive marshmallow at the end of it.

Bonfire night, or Guy Fawkes night, is an curiously pyro-centric celebration of the November night in 1605 when a plot to torch parliament was thwarted by officials. Guy -or Guido - and his band of angry Catholics were condemned by King James I for their foiled attempt. It was a champion day in British Parliament.

The festival is actually said to be rooted in pagan traditions dating even earlier than the 15th century, when the bonfire was kindled with human sacrifice.
I'd rather be torching buildings than people. Makes the wanna-be cruisaders seem almost sympathetic.

The festival was impressive, the fireworks show remarkable. The fire, not hot enough to keep us from shivering. My friends and I stood and watched the entire show then headed up to the nearby carnival - much like a mini version of last month's goose fair...with the dizzying rides and greasy snacks.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

11.04 ARCITECTURAL LEANINGS

THE LAUNCH of a unique exhibition will take place today at Nottingham’s Lace Market Theatre. Architectural Leanings is a collection of acrylic paintings and drawings by Mapperley artist Maeve W.

Her work depicts various forms of architecture inspired by buildings and scenes in Nottingham. Three of the artist’s favourite locations – London, Cornwall, and Whitby – also appear in the collection.

The exhibition coincides with the theatre’s presentation of Arthur Miller’s play The Price.
Maeve’s work is largely influenced by her own experience as a painter on set for various theatre productions.

She said: “In a way my paintings could erect as little stage settings. They give that impression – they have a knack for looking good close up, but also from a distance.”
Although she never studied art or architecture, Maeve’s fascination with drawing buildings began as a child.

She said: “There was a house with Art Nouveau tiles and they always fascinated me. I’ve always been aware of these things. I’ve always looked at buildings.”

A school teacher until 2001, Maeve still believes in the creative mind of the child. She said: “You can get good and interesting work out of children. My own art is very childlike.”
Maeve’s describes one of her favourite pieces, titled Above the Organ, as a picture of “subtle fantasy.”

She added: “It highlights the hidden but beautiful places high up in a church, above and in the shadows, where people don’t usually look.”

Architectural Leanings will be on display at The Lace Market Theatre until Saturday. All pieces are for sale along with a selection of handmade bags and greeting cards. Maeve’s work is also showcased year round at La Beaux Art on Woodborough Road.

Saturday, November 3, 2007

11.03 WE RECYCLE

Doorstep recycling service is a luxury in Nottingham. Because of inadequate funding, the recycle truck only stops along a designated circuit. My house is just outside that lucky circle, although the paper truck gathers our blue bag full of old news and scrap sheets every fortnight (ahem, every other Thursday...).

Instead, to minimize my carbon footprint, I leave tracks along a mile or so to carry plastics, cans, and glass to the bins. They are all located in the ASDA parking lot which makes it easy to carry a few bags along each trip to the grocery store. The process can be tedious and the garbage piles up until, as on this day, we have to haul a mass load of goods to the bins in one go.

Still, it makes you think twice about what you buy in the shop, about the packaging of your produce and how many old tuna cans you think you can carry next time around. Do you go for the boxed ceral or the bagged oats? Plastic or paper? Paper or plastic? Neither? Neither.

Friday, November 2, 2007

11.02 THE PEACOCK

The Peacock is the local journalists hangout. It is suitably refined, with solid oak furniture, fine tapestry furniture and a dabble of leather here and there.

The place is host to the meetings for our local branch of the National Union of Journalists and it for that reason (but also because its just a hop, skip, and jump across the road from the Centre for Broadcast & Journalism which we often leave exhausted and ready for a pint after a long hard day's studies), I expect this joint will increasingly become a hangout.

After another endruing newsday to end the week, our course director Dave managed to drag himself out for a brew with the lot of us. Tonight, I managed a half pint of Directors Ale - mainly because I liked the rooster on the label. Rooster? Cock? Not sure...anyhow my subconscious yielded to the bird after walking into the door of the Peacock I suppose.

On that note, as long as I never step into a place called the 'Absynthe' or the 'Double Jagger Bomb then I should be able to hold my own...

Thursday, November 1, 2007

11.01 THREESOME

Not that sort of threesome. No.

And on that note, who needs (cyber) sex when you could engage in a three-way conversation with your best friends, both situatied at what seems at times the most distant ends of the earth? Couple that with some chocolate covered strawberries and, well...it could be really really good.

If it wasn't for these occasional perks, I would probably condemn the internet for creating social isolation and enabling the most delusional of sexual predators their prey.

Not to mention it has aggravated my astigmatism and left me with an aching kink in my neck.

After tonight's conversation cyber-space may well become the next fitting location for "Birthday," (with a capital B) if the three of us are unable to physically convene for an annual mutual celebration.

Still, it could never be as good as the real thing.