Castle Mooch

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I was supposed to be blogging every day.  But that lasted about a week and then it became once every other day.  And I was about to blow that goal too, but here I am writing some boring, mundane words describing nothing of interest just so I’ve written something.

Today started well enough.  Up at 6 and out for a run with Peggy-Dog.  Then off to work and the utter, crushing tedium of doing something that interests me not one jot.  I don’t mind the problem solving side of things as at least my brain gets a vague workout, but in all honesty for the most part I just sit there thinking about getting home.  If you knew me, like properly knew me, you’d know that I can’t do anything about it because I’m a hopelessly apathetic…ah, jeez I couldn’t even be bothered blogging once a day, right?

So, anyway, one good thing at work was that Gillibobs sent me a genuinely beautiful email that made me smile.  Inside and out.

Once home I had another nice surprise because Gillibobs had ordered me some breaded chicken when she did the online shopping yesterday.  Total result.  I love breaded chicken.  It’s just the best.

Then I sorted out TSA Times, the weekly newsletter of TheSixthAxis, before watching Liverpool get a decent enough first leg result in the Europa League of UEFA Teams Challenge Trophy Cup semi-final.

And now to bed.  Because tomorrow, at 6 am, it all starts again.

Oh.  Almost forgot.  I made friends with a Husky today.  I love Huskies more than breaded chicken.  I’m not saying I’d eat one, mind.

Whilst waiting for TSA to launch Episode 2 of TSAtv I thought I’d watch a bit of the Champions League match between Inter Milan and Barcelona.  I don’t watch much Champions League football unless Liverpool are involved, but I occasionally like to watch the really good non-Premier League teams, especially if they have Messi and Xavi playing for them.

I also like to watch these teams because they play something so unlike the hurly-burly of the English Premier League that it’s basically a different sport.

Xavi is clearly more artist than footballer.  His technique is, to all intents and purposes, flawless.  Combined with his movement and agility, and his passing vision, it creates the finest midfielder of his generation.  Think of the current best English midfielder.  And then think of Xavi.  And then marvel that apparently they are playing the same game.

Messi is one of the most technically gifted players I’ve seen.  His close control is sometimes astonishing, and when twinned with his ability to change direction at speed and at such sharp angles, he becomes unplayable.

Both Messi and Xavi have technique the like of which is seemingly alien to English players.  Then again, these foreigners are big girls’ blouses, so that makes it all ok.

I’m not knocking England’s finest.  I’m celebrating the fact that some footballers really are from another planet.

I love them lots.  Despite being tricked into the (admittedly best ever) relationship with my partner-in-crime Gillibobs by the use of Vampires as a tempting ploy, I still love them.  I’ve enjoyed many of Anne Rice’s Vampire books because they go much deeper than the surface of Vampire mythology.  They include deep characters with stories that explore a Vampire’s life and feelings much more than just where the next drink is coming from.

When I first heard about Twilight – the film, I have no interest in reading the books - I was sceptical as to whether I would like it.  Hearing the word “teen” around anything to do with Vampires is a sure fire way of making me reach for the garlic.  But, last night, we had a “Give A Movie A Chance” evening and Gillibobs chose Twilight.  We had a little walk to the local Tesco with Peggy-Dog, and Peggy and I waited outside while Gill went in to chose the first film.  Little does she know that I spotted her purchasing the film through the window and had deduced from the cover that it was Twilight.  I was pleasantly surprised though, because her track record with Vampires isn’t very good!  For the record, I chose the film 2012 on Blu-ray.

Once home we decided to watch Twilight.  I took about five minutes to decide I liked the film.  I was completely sold once the first Vampires appeared, the only hint of them being Vampires was their almost ghostly-white appearance compared to the other high school kids.

The film’s premise was easy enough to work out from that point on: A love story.  But, it was told with more maturity than I thought would be present.  The story of a Vampire family accepting a human into its midst, contrasted against the human’s own family life was handled well enough that it didn’t descend into teen angst.  There was enough Vampire action to keep that side of me happy, yet it wasn’t a film about Vampires as much as it was a film about family and love and what we’ll do to protect them.  And a slight undercurrent of Werewolf, which I’m sure will blossom in New Moon!

So, once again, don’t judge a book by its cover.  Or, don’t judge a Vampire piece badly just because it has the word teen associated with it.

It’s General Election season at the moment and the recent televised Leaders’ Debate was something I had been looking forward to for a while.  I must say now that I don’t really know much about politics and haven’t really cared to find out.  My level of knowledge can be summed up as follows:

Labour: Socialists and therefore they want me to live in the North (where it’s grim) and be as poor as everyone else.

Conservative: Capitalists and therefore they don’t care where I live as long as I believe in free market ideals and making the rich richer.

Liberal Democrats: *shrugs*

I was interested in the debate because I wanted to hear what the leaders had to say and I also wanted to see how well they said it and how they coped against each other.  For me, Nick Clegg clearly came out on top in terms of his delivery and how he coped against Cameron and Brown.  I’m not suggesting his policies are the best, but after watching the debate I’d be more inclined to listen to him than the other two.

So, what do I actually believe in?

That people respond to incentives and that government has to find the right ones to make society move in the right direction.  Pity we all have different expectations of “right” though.

That there must be a “best” way of running the NHS, so we should work out what that is and not let a new government change it.  Hint: the best way isn’t to continually let new governments change it.

I joked on Twitter that I’d vote for whichever party would enable me to more easily afford an iPad.  A Twitter-buddy of mine – cc_star - gave me the following advice: Labour will give one free to low income families; Conservatives will cut taxes to enable people to buy their own.

That’s my level of political knowledge right there!

Train spotting isn’t a subject that I thought I’d be tackling.  I won’t be tackling it in any depth though, more of a passing observation.

My drive to work takes me down some quite nice, countrified roads.  I also drive very close to a railway track for a few minutes, and this morning as I neared an area that doubles as an impromptu car park for train spotters I realised it was full of cars.  In fact, the impromptu car park had grown an overspill car park this morning, such was the volume of cars.

There was a large crowd of spotters – easily identifiable by their beards and spectacles, vacuum flasks and notebooks – all waiting for something.  I mean, I presumed it was a train, but as the site is also near a field full of horses, maybe they were just there to horse spot.  As I drove on I saw that more spotters were in the field with the horses, and one man was stood on top of a metal case to get a better view.

I was thinking that it’s great that these people were out doing something they loved to do.  We only get one shot at this life thing, so why not do what you enjoy?  It’s easy to say “Train spotters!” and roll your eyes, but as a gamer I’m used to people doing that to me so I try not to judge the pastimes of others.  Not too much anyway.  Those synchronised swimmers are mental.

I drove past the golf club and stables and as I turned onto the next road on my journey I saw what the spotters were obviously there to see: A magnificent steam engine pulling about fifteen carriages.  The steam was billowing out of the chimney, and folding back on itself as it spread along the length of the engine car.  It looked fantastic.  I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of seeing it by design, but it did make for a pleasant start to the day all the same.

I didn’t catch its number though.

6 am isn’t the best time to go running, but it’s not the worst either.

This morning I got up and decided that it was once again time Peggy-Dog and I swapped our usual morning walk for a run.  Once I leave the bedroom and head downstairs I can hear Peggy stirring in anticipation of the walk to come.  Once she sees me get the running gear together I’m sure she gets a little more excited, although that may be just in my head.

When I run with Peggy I wear a special waist belt that has two zipped pockets and a bottle holder.  I thread her lead through one of the straps and then fasten the belt around my waist.  This means I can have her securely on the lead, but also have my hands free.  I use one pocket to store empty poo bags, and one to store…well, you get the idea.

I’m lucky to live in a street that has open countryside 100 yards from my front door.  I put Peggy on the lead, run that 100 yards, and then let her run free the rest of the way.  At that point, and at that time, it’s just me, Peggy and whatever wildlife happens to be awake.

After about one kilometre running down a path with fields on either side, the route opens up with a small lake to the left and further paths off to the right.  This morning we went left, because at that time the mist on the lake is beautiful and the swans and ducks can appear almost ghostly as they glide across the water.  Today, however, the peace was momentarily broken by a man with a big stick whacking some of the plantlife into submission.  I have no idea who he was or why he was doing said whacking, but he only did it for a few seconds and then carried on walking.  He was probably the farmer and they were his things to whack.  Odd, though.

Peggy and I carried on our way and got to the half-way point just a little quicker than I did when I ran the route on Sunday.  A brief stop was all I had this time, just long enough to get rid of the non-empty poo bags into the poo bin and off we went.

The sky was virtually cloudless and because the sun wasn’t yet fully up, it was actually quite cold.  Peggy, of course, loved this and ran the whole four miles without a care in the world.  You know, apart from my freezing hands, I pretty much did the same too.

It’s a great way to start the day, for both man and dog.  Peggy is over 11 now and yet she still takes to running with me like it’s the best thing in the world.  The only difference these days is that she likes to sleep a lot more once we finish.

And that suits me fine, because it means she won’t eat the house like she used to do in the past.

I’ve mentioned before that I have a need to escape from the mundane nature of much of life into a world more interesting.  That’s why I like videogames, books, films, and TV so much.  Whilst my partner for life is happy to watch fly-on-the-wall documentaries or celebrity shows or anything with real stuff in it, I tend to gravitate towards the fiction.  I want the unreal, not the real.

This weekend we settled down to watch our newly acquired box set, Nurse Jackie.  I didn’t know what to expect, but assumed it would be a typical USA TV affair, that is approximately 22 episodes, each of which would be approximately 42 minutes in length.  Yes, I like to press the Display button on my PS3 Blu-ray remote to find out such information.  I also like to count lights and curtain tabs, but that’s for another day.  Nurse Jackie was more bite-sized than anticipated, weighing in at around 25 minutes an episode, and at only 12 episodes for the whole of season one it meant than in under 48 hours we’d watched the whole thing.

I wasn’t done with my preconceptions though, and the first episode – the pilot – successfully rewired my brain with what to expect.  Because I wasn’t expecting a character so deeply rich, so malevolent and benign, with edges you could slit your wrists on.  This wasn’t anything like the romantic staples of Grey’s Anatomy or the drama of ER.  It was more like the staggering character work of House, distilled into 25 minutes of darkly comic events, with an overarching story so bittersweet it’s like eating a lemon and sugar pancake.  If I really like a TV show then the pause-rewind-play combo gets heavy use, because I just have to watch a scene again or hear that piece of dialogue one more time.  It was only because each episode of Nurse Jackie was so short – so beautifully, exquisitely short – that I’ve still got a functioning remote.

I urge you all to give Nurse Jackie a try.  Watch the pilot, chat about how odd it was, then watch episode two.  By then you’ll be as addicted as Jackie and popping episodes like sweets.

I love to run. I especially love it once Spring arrives and I can finally run again under blue skies. Ok, the skies in Winter are sometimes blue, but it’s freezing and I like feeling the sun on my face.

Today was only the second time this year that I’ve been running in anything other than my cold weather gear. That’s Under Armour and Gore Running Wear for those that want recommendations. Some of my warm weather gear is that too, but I digress.

So, my run. Four miles (ish) through some lovely paths, past the little lake, through the middle of farmland and Pig Island, to the Sign. The sign is for St Helens, and once there I turn back and run the reverse route home. Yes, it’s point-to-point and back, not circular like a lot of runners prefer. But I don’t really care; It’s the time and distance that’s important

The best thing about running is “runners’ high”, that feeling when the endorphins flow through your body and everything seems just peachy. Then after the run, when you feel like eating a horse and it’s ok because you won’t get fat. And finally you get to sleep the best sleep because you’re physically tired. It’s the best type of tired, so much healthier than the psychological tiredness a day of crappy work saddles you with.

And that’s me done for the week. I need to sleep that sleep my exertions deserve.

A couple of weeks ago I went to have my eyes tested. Eye tests fill me with dread because I’m scared of needing glasses.  It’s not the glasses themselves that I object to, it’s the fact that they signal my body is finally giving in to old age and I am kaput.  I’m not even 37 yet – but I will be in May, feel free to send gifts – and my body is done for.  Now, obviously that’s a bit melodramatic, but it’s the thought that goes through my head and so I end up desperately hoping I won’t need glasses.

Unfortunately, at my latest eye test the optician said that although my eyes were fine and dandy he thought that glasses for VDU work would help me stop getting tired eyes.  So, today I went to pick up the glasses and I’ve been trying them out to see how well they work.

Initial findings are that they are ace.  Images on the monitor seem a little bigger and brighter, and presumably that’s easier on my eyes because they’re having to work less hard to see those images.  The really strange thing is that when I remove the glasses it takes my eyes a couple of seconds to refocus, during which time everything is a tad blurry.  It’s a little unnerving.  If I’m looking at the screen and then I move my eyes down to look at the keyboard, so that I’m not actually looking through the lenses, the keyboard appears blurred until my eyes refocus.  I know I’ll get used to it, but right now I’m nervous that I will break my eyes!

I’ll get a really good idea of well they are working when I use them at work next week.  An eight hour stretch in front of a monitor will be a great workout.  If I can say goodbye to tired eyes then I’ll be happy.

Plus, I look great in my glasses.

I like to escape the real world as often as possible.  I do this either by gurning maniacally into the bathroom mirror or by watching DVD box sets of TV shows.  In fact, box sets are one of my favourite ways of escaping into an exciting new world.  The latest one to grace my PlayStation 3 was The Mentalist, starring Simon Baker.  There’s a load of other actors too, but I can’t be bothered finding them on Wikipedia.

The premise of The Mentalist is that a “psychic” – Patrick Jane, played by Baker – steps away from his old life when his actions result in a serial killer – Red John – killing his wife and child.  Jane then starts to work for the California Bureua of Investigations (CBI) as a consultant.  He helps the CBI with murder cases, by utilising his exceptional skills honed over the years of being a psychic.  He’s quite open about how fake psychics are, and there is one memorable episode where he encounters a psychic who gives him pause when saying something about his dead family.  But has he been played?  Well, watch it and see.

Jane’s skills are all about observation and misdirection, confidence and basic lying.  A powerful cocktail that gives him an edge over traditional police work, especially when he’s busy hypnotising people to get information the police would take an age to elicit.  It takes about two episodes before you realise that Jane should just be allowed to hypnotise everyone at the start, get the answer, and then we could all switch off and watch House.

I’m being harsh, The Mentalist is very watchable, but it’s just not up to the level of the best US TV shows.  This is no The West Wing or Desperate Housewives: It’s a slicker version of Miss Marple with a better looking cast.  The overarching story line – that Jane is working for the CBI so he can track down Red John – is given far too little air time.  Indeed, the best episodes are those where the Red John storyline is front and centre.

Season Two will be out on DVD later this year, and despite not being blown away by the first I’ll be buying it.  I love to escape, you see, and even an average cop show is a good enough place for me to go.  Especially one set in sunny California.