Beware the Idiots of March...

Well, another weekend has come and gone - this one slightly more eventful than usual. Saturday I went for an 85 mile bike ride, out west of London. All was peachy keen and wonderful, and I didn't even get much chafing, thanks to Chafe-Ease. (There is a Santa Claus!).



Sunday was slightly more eventful... Robin and I went to the Starbucks in Vauxhall to meet Allen, so we could sit around feeling morally superior and watch trashed queens stumble out of the clubs into the morning sun ("Yes, I've got schaenfreude on line 1..."). That was good for a few hours of laughs, watching grey-faced, doe-eyed, sunglassed muscle-marys take their first, ginger steps into the daylight. Unfortunately, a group of them then decided to hang around out front of Starbucks, one of them lounging all over Robin's bike. So, we decided it was time to get the bikes and leave. Anyway, Captain Drugfucked sort of stumbles hither and yon, bumps into me, then ends up getting belligerent at Allen when he tried to prevent the guy from falling on me. We try to just walk away, but the guy takes a kick at Allen as we cross the street, and narrowly misses getting hit by a bus. Pity. So, Robin and I head off on our bikes to Enfield for an afternoon of chav-watching and bargain hunting at TKMaxx. Alas, the bargains were not to be found, nor were many chavs. We took the hilly but scenic route to Enfield, but Robin whined, so we took the flat, busy and generally shitty route back, that heads back through a number of not so salubrious neighborhoods.



We get to this very busy intersection, where traffic is all stacked up and not going anywhere... I weave through the traffic (as one does on a bike), and Robin follows behind, a little wobblier still... I see him wobble a bit behind me, in my mirror, but he keeps going, so I keep going through the intersection. I stop on the far side of the intersection, where it's safe to do so and wait for Robin. He doesn't show. After a minute or so, a woman on a bike rides by and says, 'your friend is having some trouble with a driver back there'. Fearing the worst, I turn around (through absolutely gridlocked traffic) and head back. I arrive to find Robin arguing with a young Turkish (I think) many in a 2001 Z3. According to the man (hereafter known as Young, Dumb and Full of Cum, or YDaFC), Robin had fallen off his bike and caused damage on the car's rear bumper. First problem is, Robin didn't actually fall off his bike, but was, in fact, tackled by this man when he kept on riding after wobbling a bit and knocking into the car with his knee. Robin didn't tell me at the time he'd been tackled though. I point out to YDaFC that the damage is, in fact, dirt, which I wipe off. He then finds some minor scratch underneath the bumper that Robin supposedly caused. I point out this would be physically impossible unless Robin had gone under the car, which, given that he was still standing, he most likely did not. I suggest to Robin that the guy is an idiot and we should just leave. He blocks my way and gets up in my face - threatens me with violence and threatens then to call the police. Robin says, 'please do'. The guy realizes we've called his bluff, so I call the police instead. This argument goes on and on and on, the guy demanding money from Robin. I call the police twice, as they are not showing up. Then the guy calls his older and bigger friend who shows up and starts threatening to damage our bikes, to punch us, blah blah blah. Fortunately, this is in the middle of a very busy intersection, but it's still a little worrying. I tell the guy that if he does anything he'll be done for assault and to get out of my face and stop threatening me - meanwhile trying to figure how I might manage to get my chain lock off my waist to beat him with it if possible (not very likely). The two of them are stringing together a whole pack of lies about what Robin supposedly did to bumper of the car. Fortunately, a police van happens to go by, on the way to a burlgary. YDaFC flags it down. Three cops come over, and YDaFC tells his amazing story. I suggest to the cops that there are, in fact, two rather different stories, and Robin tells his. The police have a look at the bumper, and, in not so many words, tell the guy to quit being an ass and wasting their time. They suggest that he could file a civil suit, but as Robin is not driving a car, he is under no obligation to provide his address, whereas YDaFC is. At this point, thoroughly humiliated in front of us and three nice white cops, our two antagonists drive off. Robin and I linger for a bit, long enough to tell the cops about the threats of violence, then we take a very circuitous route home, as I'm sure our Turkish friends would likely kill us if they came across us again. Anyway, no damage was done and no one was hurt. We did require ice cream after that, however, and will probably not be frequenting that neighborhood much in the immediate future. Someone once said never argue with a drunk or a fool. They were right.

The map told me to do it...

Well, I have entered the brave new world of people who blindly follow their GPSs. I took my first big step into the modern age over the weekend. I figured out a bike route, using Google Maps, then, through the miracle of science, managed to convert it to a file that could be read by my Garmin. There I had, laid out in front of me, in glowing sort of purply color, the path to my enlightenment, or at least to Hastings, about 65 miles southeast, on the coast. Blindly south(east) I pedalled, guided by the purple light, until I was presented with several minor errors that required actual thought on my part. The first was a taxi stand, which the Garmin goddess insisted I ride through. Fine - I am a taxi of one. The next proved slightly more problematic - a one-way street going the wrong way. I disobeyed my purple pathway and took the long way around, and had to endure the irritated beeping of my little guidance machine. However, this foray into the unknown did give the the chance to pedal through Pratt's Bottom (with a turnoff to Knockholt), which had to have been a good thing. The third and final error would have had me going the wrong way around a roundabout - a very big roundabout. It is quite possible that Google Maps doesn't entirely understand the concept of 'one-way'. I will have to write them a sternly worded letter, or perhaps pay a little more attention the next time I'm creating a route. However, despite these minor little inconveniences, I did not pedal my way into a shrub, or a lake, or off a cliff, and having my route all mapped out and moving along in front of me let me head out onto the little tiny 1-lane roads through towns just so cute I was forced to think cute thoughts. Fortunately, the ride ended up in Hastings, which is about as grim of a seaside town as one could ever desire, full of horrid chavs and other flotsom and jetsom washed up on the shores of the English Channel. I made sure to keep my bike lock fastened securely to my waist, to ensure I was not stolen for parts. One can never be too safe. I survived though, and had a lovely train ride back to civilization, reading the Sunday paper and having important thoughts, about something, I'm sure. Got home then and managed to scarf down 400g of lamb, 400g of potatoes, and 250g of random veggies, which makes well over two pounds of food. Yummy!

Today has been rather useless. I have a whole shitpile of work to do and I've just been uninspired. I did, however, think some about why London cyclists can be such a nasty bunch, glaring at each other and cutting each other off. In the rest of the world, people on bikes tend to nod at each other, help each other out, eat too much granola, that sort of thing. In London, however, cycling often seems to be, well, a competition of who has the largest penis (this sometimes works for women as well). Every traffic light in the morning rush hour feels like the beginning of the Tour de France. It occurred to me today, after engaging with some light conversation with an elderly gentleman about his driving habits (involving several four letter words and random fingers), that perhaps some of this naked aggression and competition on the roads comes b/c a lot of cycling in London is about trying to keep oneself from being mowed over by pinheads in fast moving cars. That sort of environment would, I guess, tend to engender feelings of stress and general pissoffedness at the world, or at least at drivers, pedestrians, other cyclists, the state of the economy, peanut butter, whatever - that I can see how it might transfer into generally antisocial behavior. Behaviour even. So yeah, there you go, and ooh, it looks like it's time to go. Off to the gym, so I can be buff und huge. Or something.

Dream Trains

Well... A few minutes at the end of the day with no bosses about... I had one of my train dreams last night. This seems to be a new recurring dream. I used to have dreams about fire or water when I got really stressed, but I suppose I've not been as stressed lately, which is a good thing. My recent recurring dream always seems to involve a subway of some sort, which I have taken to some ridiculously distant location. Last night, I had taken the San Diego trolley to somewhere south of downtown. My actual stop was supposed to be downtown, but I'd missed it and got off instead at some sort of artistic workshop in a large brick building with homeless people milling around out back. I wanted, originally, to walk back to town - I was with someone - I don't remember who, but it was actually too far, so we decided we would take the trolley. I walked back into the workshop - I guess I was there visiting someone, but I don't remember who, and found a ticket, with my name on it, lying around on the countertop. On the floor were numerous inlaid trackways for various trolleys, which I had to jump over to get to the one I wanted (this is almost always a constant - many different, intertwined tracks, and me having a difficult time getting to the one I want). Anyway, I manage to get onto the trolley, which heads back towards downtown in this great sweeping arc. Between where we are and downtown is a very large, barren field, full of disused and wrecked planes, farm implements, tanks, etc, all half-buried in the ground. In the trolley itself, the seats are actually wet trough-urinals, which people are sitting in. Not wanting to stand, I perch myself on the edge of a seat and make some comment about how they didn't really design the seats well in these earlier light rail systems, and off we go. I look beyond downtown, to see Mt Soledad and the fog rolling in, and then my alarm goes off. I wake up and think, hmm - life is very strange indeed.

Anyway, life progresses. Last week I spent with a horrible stomach bug. Suppose the good thing is that it was a very easy way to drop 2kg ("Always look on the bright side of life..."), but OMG I just wanted to keel over dead. This last weekend I ventured out on my bike - 57 miles on Sunday, which was lovely except for getting stuck in hail and driving rain. I think that's the 2nd time in my life I started to get hypothermia. The first time also involved driving rain and a long downhill. Maybe I should wear more clothing.

Both David and Robin have bikes now - between them they spent something like £1500. And I still go out biking on my own. How sad. I suppose I enjoy the time to myself - otherwise I wouldn't do it, but there are those times, such as when one is stuck in the middle of nowhere in hail, wearing shorts and a flimsy rain jacket, when company would be nice. Suppose it's time now to pedal off to the gym. Tomorrow morning I'm taking my bike in for a tune-up, which always ends up costing stupid amounts of money (suppose that's what happens when one rides it 200+ miles per week). Should have just gotten a car. Not.

Maps coming out my ears

Ah - the end of another suspiciously productive day. Suspiciously I say b/c I've actually been hard at work all day, but don't seem to have a lot to show for it. Funny how that goes. Made a map for a very annoying estate surveyor. He kept calling and pestering me about it. He would have gotten it about a day earlier had he not been doing that. Forced me to go all local government on him...Mmmhmm! The local bike store wants me to make a great big map of Hackney to put in their front window. I'm really pleased they want me to do this, but, of course, have run right into stupid map licensing issues, given that all map data in this silly little country is controlled by Ordnance Survey, and they are suing people left and right who dare to use mapping data without paying for it properly... So, I'm looking for a clever and entirely legal way around this, which I might have found by tying the map into the Government's 'Cycle to Work' scheme. Very clever - and promoting council and environmental interests as well! I'm learning how to play the bureaucratic game. How very scary indeed.

Went for a lovely 62 mile bike ride on Sunday out west of London. I'm mapping all my rides with my new Garmin toy. One of these days I will figure out how to convert everything to .kml files so I can put them onto Google Earth... I had my lunch in a tumbledown graveyard in the not very exciting town of Chertsey. I used a tombstone as my picnic bench. David thinks this is macabre, but given that most of the graves seem to have just sat around doing nothing since the mid 1800s, it seemed a good recycling use of material. I also had to take a leak in the graveyard - tried to find a place that wasn't right over someone's grave - didn't want to get pulled under or anything scary like that.

No, I'm not a weirdo - I just play one on TV.

Anyway, not much else to report really - suppose I should get out of here and head to the gym so I can be buff und huge (giggle!).

When the boss is away, the Doug will play...

And I'm back. Ewa is away skiing in Austria and Thomas has gone to some meeting with Street Lighting (where most bright ideas are born), so I have a few minutes to tickle the keyboard with my amazing wit and witticisms (or else to drivel on about nothing in particular). I missed the chance to write about the big 'Blizzard of '09', which saw London buried under an amazing and terrifying 6 or 7 inches of snow. The entire city ground to a complete halt, with the entire bus fleet being pulled for the first time, apparently, in its history. Supposedly, the health and safety folks were worried that they would turn into big red double decker missles being hurtled down streets at at least 5 mph, destroying this great city that has survived pest and pestilence, war and fire. I am very glad they saw fit to keep the busses out of service - meanwhile not bothering to grit roads or sidewalks until well after the fact. Different boroughs seemed to have different policies on what to do. Southwark made at least a halfass attempt to grit some of the streets, though the ones they picked seemed entirely random. Lambeth adopted an 'it will melt' eventually approach, and Hackney dumped about a million pounds of salt in front of one council building, but didn't get around to the much smoother and much slipperier sidewalks in front of another one until 3 days later, when the now-ice was melting anyway. Trains were cancelled, in some instances, for three days 'because of severe conditions' (the wrong kind of snow or something, i guess), and the supermarkets sold out of bread. I slogged into work, taking 2 hours one way and 2.5 hours the other, because the council initially said we'd have to take the day against our annual leave allowance, and only later, when it became clear that most people had stayed home, said that they would give the Monday and Tuesday as snow days. Great - felt really appreciated there. One of the newspapers declared that this country had become and 'entire nation of bedwetters'. I couldn't agree more.

Anyway...

Paul and I went to Berlin two weekends ago for a long weekend. He ended up going out and generally staying up all night. I spent the time hanging out with friends (I've somehow managed to make three good friends there, even though I've never lived there), eating, and wandering around the city. I think that was my sixth time there? Not sure. Anyway, Berlin is definitely one of my very favorite places and well up on my list of places I could live quite happily (of course, I'd need to learn German...).

Got a new toy for my bike - a Garmin Edge 705, which is basically a bike sat-nav. It is so cool - lets me record all my rides online and map them out on Google maps - keeps track of things like cadence, elevation change, calories burned, speed, etc... It's basically all the nerdy things I've wanted to keep track of for the past 20 or so years, and all I have to do is to plug it into the computer. How cool is that?

Oh, and David has finally replaced his bike - so we are now a household of cyclists again. Robin is using his clipless pedals and hasn't had a disaster... Now I just have to convince the two of them they want to do long-distance rides... Baby steps.

I stayed home from work yesterday with a cold. Actually, I wasn't all that ill, but I'd not been sleeping very well and Robin convinced me to try one of his sleeping pills (he has b/c of the meds he's on). So, I took one when I went to bed, thinking this might actually give me a nice, full night of sleep. Wrong! I felt like I was getting sucked into the bed, which I really didn't like. Woke up then at 4:26 in some weird position and couldn't go back to sleep. Every time I tried, I just had weird thoughts. By the time morning came around, I was a complete disaster and wasn't going anywhere. Finally got a little sleep between 9 and 11, but I spent most of yesterday feeling like a complete zombie. Don't think I will be trying those again--eek! Of course, it didn't keep me from meeting Kathleen for lunch or going to the gym. Gayness trumps illness every time...

Mr. Smoker behind me is still hacking up a lung - I can hear him force out a tubuculoid cough every minute or two. My solution to this, which might actually prevent office violence, is to plug myself into streaming music on my mobile phone (I've got unlimited internet access) - found some really good French station that seems to have very few ads - and the're in French anyway, so they just sound like silly noises...

Should probably do a little work now... How dull.

Biking to Glory

And we're back.

Today was the third day of my big bold plan to boldly get up in the morning as no one has gotten up before. Monday was the first day (I suppose that's rather obvious...). Anyway - I got up Monday morning, all ready to head out into the new day on my bicycle. Only problem was that my back tire had gone flat. Great. So I ran instead, just to say I'd done something. Yesterday I cycled - actually really enjoyed it - and really really enjoyed not having to do it after work in the dark. This morning I woke up about 615 (not happy about that), but persevered nonetheless - headed out on my bike into the pouring rain. Another cyclist nearly flattened me as I was turning left - he thought it was a good idea, apparently, to zip between me and the curve as I turned. I offered him a few kindly suggestions on his technique... All goes smoothly then until, 2 miles from Hackney - pfftzzzzzz - a very small but very sharp piece of glass lodges in my front tire, tearing it to shreds (thankfully no blowout), and I get to walk the last two miles to work (and the bike store) in the rain. Yay! The bike store, which had just recommended the previous tires to me only a few weeks ago (as being more puncture resistant than my goold old standby Armadillo tires), replaced them both, charging me for just one tire and no labor. I think they were embarrassed - b/c 2 flats in 2 tires in 3 days does not speak well towards the manufacturer's grandiose claims of puncture resistance...

However, drama aside, I think I really like this whole business about cycling in the morning (more than just the 7.5 miles to work). Given that I've not had much sleep this week, I've ended up feeling pretty awake and alive, and I get to feel virtuous in the morning when I'm out on my bike in the rain. I'm probably weird and need counseling.

Oh, I did see a Reliant Robin this morning, which always amuses me. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reliant_Robin Why anyone ever thought this car was a good idea, I'm not sure. They do look quite dorky going around a corner at high speeds, wobbling about... I want one.

Anyway, not much else really to write today. I've been using the day (sans bosses at work) to catch up on those very important work related things like writing letters. Might clean my desk now so that it looks like I've actually gotten something accomplished. I love working in government!

Here and Alive...

And I’m back – at least briefly. I have a number of pages of blather to enter from the California trip, which I will one of these days (they will be out of order, I suppose – we will cope).

Anyway – yesterday was supposed to be the most miserable day of the year, according to scientists at the British Institute of Grumpiness and the BBC. I was grumpy and irritable yesterday, so I guess I was just proving the point. I do think, however, that my desk light actually does help some. Or, at least I’ve decided that it does b/c I’d feel really stupid about paying £129 for it otherwise. (Probably that). Still though, I will be very happy once we start getting more than a modicum of sunlight again…

We had a student here today. I was tasked with keeping him busy and interested, since I have teaching experience and Ewa (who also has teaching experience) wasn’t interested. I gave him a task to do which seems to have taken the entire day – so either I kept him occupied, or he did a very good job of playing on the Internet all day and looking busy (and more power to him if he did). Tomorrow is a team away-day, where we get to talk about such complete drivel as communication strategies and have team building exercises. I’d rather die. I don’t know why organisations come up with this sort of crap, and why people actually enjoy it. But then, the world is full of idiots, which probably explains a great deal of it.

And the Bush presidency ends in four minutes! Woohoo! Oh – and I got Indefinite Leave to Remain (as did David), which is such a relief! Hopefully not having Bush in the White House will be at least as big of a relief…

Hopefully will manage to write more over the next few days, b/c I’ve been really bad at this lately….