2004 Blog Archive

Below are my web blog updates from 2004, which saw the blog grow extensively in popularity. Hosting moved from freebie to paid for premium, plus in May the option to post personal comments for each individual posting were added.


Friday 31st December 2004

A strange way to end the year. Be called out on business, across to Bedford for but nevertheless a necessary meeting. As I headed home the sun was setting across the hills of Dunstable to the east. The M1 southbound was busy but moving steadily as my mind began to drift. My mind reflected on the year about to pass and the year ahead. Several months of difficulty but lacking the powerful pain, I had felt so strongly in the past. Yet, we showed our perseverance and overcame the struggles, to find ourselves on the right course and very much happy. Let me consider my happiness in greater detail. No, I am not truly happy but more relived that once more, all the pieces of the jigsaw have fallen into place, and not a minute too soon. For someone bless with little luck, I sometimes find myself amazed by the smallest act of divine intervention. Those who know me well, would consider me to be a mild control freak. A fact I could not argue with, yet the more I think about things the more I feel stronger powers are at work here, than those of my own mortal doing. If things happen for a reason, then maybe just maybe 2005 will be the year which sees me taking bigger strides on the journey of success. Just a simple case of believing. Believing in myself.

As has become customary, I would like to wish all visitors to my website a prosperous 2005!

Thursday 30th December 2004

Three months and four days had passed since our last installment. Expectations were high, more so by the extended marketing exposure given this time around. Rather than billboards on the tube, there had been lavish television spots on the build up to the big day. The posters bore a striking resemblance to the final two from the Matrix trilogy. However, before I get to the action, let me start at the beginning. As soon as I saw the trailer for the movie, I contacted Nav and asked if he wanted to go and see the picture. He had been the one, to introduce Hero to me back in mid September 2003. Who was to know that almost exactly twelve months later, we would go and enjoy the experience on wide screen, having seen the first half on flaking VCD. The release date was awkward to say the least. Boxing Day. For a few weeks, it seemed that we would be unable to catch the epic story at the cinema. Nav was going to be in Manchester with relatives and would not be coming down towards London for some time. As chance would have it, Nav would be dropping his sister down in Ealing yesterday and would be able to catch the movie in the afternoon. As well made plans usually do, things changed. Instead we decided to catch the early evening performance, giving plenty of time to allow from the journey from Lincolnshire.

I left Wycombe just before 4pm, to make sure I did not get stuck in traffic on the A40. As usual, the roads were relatively clear and I made great time heading towards Ealing. I arrived just after 4.30pm, giving Nav a call on his mobile. It was off, sending me directly to his generic T-Mobile answer phone. This was a surprise, because he never has his phone off, unless unwittingly he has let the battery drain away. I waited for a short while, a few minutes more and then began to panic. Not a mad panic, but a mild panic, considering the options open to me if my friend did not materialise. Going to the cinema on your own is an experience I would not like to repeat, so therefore my plan was to wait until 5pm and then head over to the multiplex for a refund. Then head home and catch the big game in full. (Rather than catching only three quarters, as would be the case). Just as I was giving up, I looked out of my window and saw some bright headlights heading towards. The car, I recognised, as it pulled up directly in front of me. I smiled, my phone bleeped. Delivery report received. Nav had finally switched on his phone. We were present and correct and headed over to Vue in Acton. It was busy, but I found a parking space quite quickly and headed into the foyer. There was a large queue, one automatic ticket dispenser out of action. My attempts to obtain our tickets from the working machine did not work. No other option but the queue. This was a bad evening for the staff, the LCD information screen was out of action, so the details of film availability had to be given verbally (by leaving the safety of the booth). A man in charge fixed the second ticket dispenser, jumping out of the queue (a mistake) to once again attempt to have my cinema tickets printed. Did not work. So, we had to get back into queue to get our tickets. The clock was ticking, the film started in 5.45 and we had a few minutes to go.

Well after that episode or rather fuss over the tickets, I was actually looking forward to sitting down and watching the movie. With chocolate mint ice cream in one, hand and regular coke (with ice) in the other, I headed into the audiodoritium. Busy, but by no means full, we found some seats to the middle of the upper tear on the right. To compare The House of Flying Daggers with any other film I have seen, would be criminal. However, using Hero as a base has to be expected. My real criticism is with the storyline, although it did contained the customary twists and turns, even romance, it lacked the layered approached which made the previous film such a great success. The actors were average but it needed more star quality to get the passion across, as the story is based more on love than rivalry or a feuding battle. The direction is amazing, with some integral fight scenes and clever special effects. The plot is much more easier to follow although I think the ending becomes obvious far too quickly and then the pace slows down to compensate for the lack of action in these scenes. Shame because this could have been developed further. This got me thinking, why do people go and watch these films? The storyline come secondary to the action sequences. Therefore more time and money is spent on these parts of the movie rather than any other, which is understandable. You want to get as many people through the door as possible. I would therefore only recommend this picture to those who enjoy the genre. Otherwise you will leave disappointed.

I have been nominated as the best blog friend by Andrew Guilder. If you can recall this is the guy, I happened to sit next to on the National Express coach from Birmingham to Leicester exactly seven months yesterday. So feel free and vote. My blog of the poorest quality in comparison to the other five nominations. Make sure that comes into consideration when you place your vote.

Tuesday 28th December 2004

Why is it that during the festive period, we lose all sense of date and time. Does Christmas do something to the body clock that is shrouded in mystery? Perhaps even the great Dickens noticed this lapse in human attention at this time of year.

My long term love affair with remixes continues. Several months ago, I was sitting in my car waiting to give a relative a lift, listening to Kiss 100. It was a Sunday night and Mark Goodyear was presenting the Smash Hits Hit List. It was at this moment, I heard for the first time the Hi-Base remix of the Britney Spears ballad, 'Everytime'. Rarely does a remix improve the original to a level that it becomes more radio friendly. Deconstructing the strong, the lyrics are far from definitive and the melody has greater power to the affect it carries the song. If you look at the artist and avoid the rest of the baggage that comes with the brand. She does poses a nice pair of lungs and produce the perfect vocal. The dream voice for a DJ to remix. My favourite song by the former pop princess is 'Born To Make You Happy'. Maybe because she was on the rise, but also the fact that my life was coming together and for once I could look around and smile contently. Shame to see such a great talent wasted on the three taboos, s, d, and very little of the rock and roll.

As we find ourselves staring at the end of year, I believe it is time for me to be noting down great thoughts and reflections for 2004. Did the year live up to expectation or not? This is very difficult for me to say because I find myself having made so much little progress that I had hoped for. Maybe the fact that I have started my second job and am at the starting line again. Yes, overall the circumstances are for the better but the lack of time in the position means I have little to judge against and little substance to reflect upon. In time, experience I shall be able to give a greater insight. Many things happened this year in terms of my website. I moved host and actually started paying for hosting for the first time. Purchased a second domain name, hosting my second exclusively 'work' blog, firstly on Blogger and in recent weeks on my own personal hosting.

Those who recall my adventures from Saturday 25th September will be pleased to announced the next installment is scheduled for tomorrow morning (or possibly early afternoon). The venue and companion remain unchanged and the only noted difference is the title of feature. Hopefully I will be able to review events tomorrow evening, comparing my personal record with that of my friend on his online journal. I am hoping to go over to Central London later in the week and also over to Birmingham early next week, possibly Monday. Want to get everything in order before work starts over again. A trip to the Midlands would give an opportunity to test out my Pure DAB Personal digital radio on the road for the first time. Will keep you posted, all events are subject to change at short notice.

Saturday 25th December 2004

Tradition, the foundation for this time of year. Sown into the very fabric of this country, our way of life, our way of doing things, dare I be political to utter the word, 'culture'. If there are two groups of people that roam this earth, one set embrace tradition, convention, the establishment. While the rest reject it, to take their own path. I could never be anything but a creature of habit, routine and ultimate dependence. I have my reasons but then I am sure there are quire valid reasons for you dreading your path. Each to their own.

Yet, I find myself still longer to aspire to greater tradition than the reasonable standard that I have already set. One such aspect would be a seasonal visit to the cinema. Sure, I venture to the multiplex at the wrong time of year. With the summer heat striking down upon us, I am quite keen to catch the summer's biggest blockbuster, rather than anything else. Last year, there was one film that I had to see. In my eagerness to I asked a close friend if they wanted to go with me. Their response was that it was not worth the visit to the cinema. Disheartened, I allowed the opinion of another to overpower my strong will, knowing also, that there was not much time left to catch a screening locally or even more closer to the actual setting. My only excuse is that there is never the time to fit in a trip to the cinema, even with the FilmWorks a stepping stone away. Too many other things going on and movies are much lower down the list of priorities. Particularly when there are so many things to organize and errands to run.

This year, in mid November I discovered that Sky Movies would be making the digital premiere of that very movie on Christmas Day. Joy filled my heart, hoping that this would be an opportunity for the entire family to sit down, in the evening and spend a few enjoyable hours with sugary entertainment. Did it happen? Well I am happen to report it did, actually. (Yes a very poor pun, but in the circumstances and considering the date, I hope you will be kind enough to forgive me.) Firstly, let me state that I can fully understand why people do not like this movie. Several months ago, Clive Bull had this discussion on his late night talk show on LBC and the negative feeling regarding the Curtis production was clearly evident. However, let me give my personal response. At this time of year, we seem to cocoon ourselves into our own little lives, surrounded by our family, friends and loved ones. We seem to forget how this can be the most difficult time of year for many others. The film tries to get this message across, and also establish the fact that not all love stories have a happy ending. Although, anything shot under the banner of the festive season has some poetic licence. Yes, this film does showcase the brilliance of London at this time of year and does this extremely well, proving that Britain can match some of the more traditional Christmas locations, such as New York, or exotic as Sydney. Sometimes we go to the cinema to be frightened, just like we jump onto a roller coaster to be pushed to the edges of our physical boundaries. I believe deep down inside all of us, there is a beating heart that wants to be warmed. This evening, my heart was gracefully warmed by the eight intertwined storylines of this movie. There is little need for substance, particularly when the image portrayed tells us so much about the human soul. Can feel good cinema get any better? Not really, but do you know the reason why? Christmas is the most magical time of year and sometimes, just sometimes dreams can come true.

Friday 24th December 2004

Just a quick message before the festivities get into full swing. I collected my cousins from Luton, this afternoon and am looking forward to the big day tomorrow. There is very little to write apart from wish all my visitors to my blog, both old and new, a very Merry Christmas.

Tuesday 21st December 2004

Sitting down into my friend's Mazada 6, I smiled with glee at the creature comforts, leather seats, satellite navigation and Bose in car audio system. I noticed a CD case, in the door storage panel, to my left and picked it up. The front of the case came off in my hand, coming to my attention that is had been broken previously. It was then that I finally turned the case around to see the cover. Pleasantly surprised to discover that this was not any old run of the mill. Although our friendship spans over ten years now, we rarely discuss music. To find the greatest and most popular album in his car was surprise to say the least. The previous evening had been spent perfecting a Christmas album for the ride and if you know me well, the shopping trip is a time I really get into the festive mood. Yet, I was holding a piece of musical history. This was the original 1982 release and although looked somewhat dated, hid well its twenty two year history. Maybe I would drop it into the CD player for a quick listen on the way home. Holding back my excitement in being able to hear the original masterpiece, I headed to Milton Keynes in near silence, with my mind drifted as much as the winding roads of Oxfordshire and North Buckinghamshire, on this bright winter evening. We stopped for fuel, seizing the opportunity, I inserted the disc but decided against listening to it there and then, quickly switching back to the seasonal bootleg I had created. Believe me, the crooner, Andy Williams grows on you, even with Christmas songs.

To those of you, whom have just rushed in that final coursework assignment before the Christmas holidays, you will spare thought for our lonely student. Searching my memory banks, I find it hard to discover a more ruthless example of the strange love/hate relationship between the student and their lecturer. Thank God those days are behind me. I am sure our University academic, will not find it difficult to produce a scenario which betters this one.

Last year I went Christmas shopping on a Sunday in Oxford. This was a example of my poor judgment, berating myself that such an lapse shall never occur again. The original plan had been, like the rest of the of the population to leave it as late as possible. This had meant, Wednesday 22nd December (always tomorrow) was the original designated shopping day. Then, when news came that I would not been joining the dole queue but had secured a job. Plans, as they often do, had to be changed. Sunday was chosen, because it was the only available date, knowing there would be a few awkward purchases, it would be best to have some company, particular as he had several final purchases to make himself. Where as I, hadn't even started. This is the only time, I actually spend a day shopping in the real world and actually attempt to make a 'day of it'. The rest of the time, I shop online, from the comfort of my own bedroom. Even things such as clothes can be purchased online these days, why bother with the hustle and bustle of the high street? Since my final few years at school, I have had a strong anti-city feeling, towards shopping districts. This may have been bedded in my less than normal social nature in my early to mid teenage years. To stop short of a full history lesson, I avoided as much as possible town or city centres on a Saturday purely because of the hell they used to impose on me. This rule still exists, even if slightly cloaked form. Yes, ever December, like clockwork, this barrier disappears and I am once more able to enter society and shop like the next man. Although, of course I do not shop like anyone else. I know what I want (already) make some quick initial judgments, perhaps even slight changes on brand or final product and make that purchase. I do not have time to fussy around, like some other members of the human species. This does save some time, when you do all your planning and homework before you venture out. Even someone as well organised as me still finds it difficult to find gifts for some of the more, now how to do I put this, more 'elusive' members of my small family (small by Asian standards) No wonder it has become the sixth most stressful life event. Whatever, "life event" means is anyone guess. I survived and got 85% of my shopping done that day, just a few small problems that firstly need some more thought and a quick purchase. I intend to go down to Uxbridge in the next few days to complete the haul. Thursday, can't come too soon.

On the way back to my friend's house, we did listen to that most complete of albums, but I had no time for the early tracks. Criminal of me, I agree, but there is some method in my madness. The song that needed to be heard was to summarize how I felt this Sunday afternoon, with Christmas drawing ever so closer. The facts should speak for themselves. Sometimes a song is bigger than the moment, rarely is the artist great than the song and rarely even still does the album mean more to the world than (regrettably) than the artist. Sometimes, pure lyrics do little to capture the moment.

Thursday 16th December 2004

It all came together as I was driven around into the car park of my new office. My new working day home. To say this was a different environment was an understatement. I had gone, from (in my humble opinion) the greatest city in the world to this countryside retreat. Well, that is not so much a clue as an indication of where in the world I find myself and what the future brings. Sometimes, the greatest postings happen my accident and all the pieces of the jigsaw fall into place, quite happily without the need to be constantly wanting to write the perfect post. As musings from last clearly show. A man trying to force words of wisdom on a reluctant crowd.

A breath of fresh air. That is all I can say to describe my first day at work. Firstly, I left the house half an hour before I was due at the office. Unthinkable, when a just five weeks previously, the journey would have started an hour and half earlier, just to be sure to make it to the office on time. As I pulled out my drive, I glanced at the clock, 08:27. WOW! Although there was some traffic built up on the A404, there was little to fret. I still made good time and was early (as one should always be). On your first day, there tends to be certain home truths that come home to roost. Things will be dramatically artificial from another standard day. Having now experience 3 'first' days, the first two years ago and two, five months apart this year. There is so much to take in, people to greet and make comfort your seat. Of course, people are nice, they don't want to let their guard down and want to make you feel comfortable. They are waiting for you to settle before they show themselves out, which is understandable. Although I have noted well, people being themselves and not putting on this show, this facade for the new boy My last firm had an extremely streamlined induction procedure, running a tight ship and an extremely tighter schedule. Global firms have experience and more importantly than that, a "way" of doing things. The SMEs of this world, just have big aspirations but not the wallet to match. Yet, I find myself in a mixture of the two, or more half way house. Early days indeed but first impressions build towards bigger and better things in the world and therefore I need to quickly summarize my thoughts and feelings. Not having a shadow meant the day dragged and I did not pick up as much as I could have but then again, there was so much to take it, I think it will take me at least three to four months to master the product. (The previous version that is!) Just run me through the benefits of bespoke software again?

The major factor, rather than just the X Factor is the time of year I find myself starting work. Not just that its the most wonderful time of year. Joining when I do, I find my Mum finishing work tomorrow and my sister early next week. In the opposition direction, I find myself ending the stupid slump of the past few weeks and becoming dragged into the overwhelming world. Sure, the next few days are going to difficult and at times a struggle. I am prepared, (as well as I can be) for what can only be the start of a new challenge. Yet, I know deep down inside that the real battle begins in January, with the slate somewhat wiped clean and the future, not hanging in the balance, I never live my life in that way. I intend to, in the best possible fashion, prove once again, all the critics wrong.

Much of what has been written here, should have gone on my 'other' blog but this was a moment for personal reflection and not just technical know how. The ideal will be to have personal views and opinions on this site and any usual bits of information on the other. Let me know when I fail to do this.

As I got out of my German ride, some words echoed out into the cool winter air from the above average engineered radio, tuned to the Irish wonder. The waiting was over, my first day at work, was about to begin.

All the times that I cried, keeping all the things I knew inside,
It’s hard, but it’s harder to ignore it.
If they were right, I’d agree, but it’s them you know not me.
Now there’s a way and I know that I have to go away.

Wednesday 15th December 2004

I have been using credit cards for the past five years and am bemused by the new scheme of Chip and Pin. Sure, the signature as a measure of authority has been ineffective for decades but entering a pin appears to have several flaws of its own. As an organised individual, I am usually on the ball with any new initiatives that are dished upon us. I have to admit I have just been lazy. However, I was told this afternoon, at Next that from two months time, I will have to know my PIN and that signatures will no longer be accepted. I now need to develop a strategy for my PIN. I could be naive and create a universal number for all my cards, which would save me time but be a security nightmare should I lose my cards and my PIN become common knowledge. A more dogmatic and sensible approach would be to have two or three PINs to use across three or more cards. I am working on it, just need to work out how I can re-request my PIN from all these issuers.

Almost a year in the making, I finally caught the video for a track, I had been hunting down for several months in 2003. Television broadcast from the subcontinent takes precedent. Although we have switched in the last ten months from being a household tuned to B4U to the station Rupert in 1993. Star is broadcast from India but has a global reach. Just after 5pm, my Mum asked my Dad to change the channel. When he chose 801 on the Sky Remote instead of 804, I was pleasantly surprised. This quickly turned to joy when I heard the family beats of Kangna by Dr. Zeus. I had waited some time to see the video in full, sure I had seen the Zeus medley several times but that was cheap to say the least. To be honest, I was disappointed, I had expected more. The song has got now, almost a cult following that it will go down as a classic, yet the video, lacked effectiveness. No, perhaps it was not original, unique, as the lyrics of the song make out. Describing the unique relationship between yourself and the girl on the dance floor with the sparkling bracelet.

I never rehash previous postings. I find that to be meaningless and add little to the longetivity of my blog, as a historical document. All day I have been thinking long and hard of how to express how I feel on this day. Late into this evening, I still had little to write. Referring to my entry from Sunday 20th June before I started my last job. There are times when you are give the poetic licence to be arrogant and perhaps even selfish and that is one of the finest examples here. May have become a victim of my own success in that respect, with words, imagery and stature that cannot be fallen. Doesn't stop me drying. So, rather than summary my feelings in a song, I am going to do something different. Recommend a blog. This will only click with a selective few in my audience. Memories of University, the rush to get that first assignment completed on time and course the all nighter to no avail. Take a step back to those wholly corridors of academia. Be afraid, be very afraid.

Monday 13th December 2004

It was billed as Judgment Day and it did not disappoint. A result for Rupert and the boys if nobody else. Let us focus for a few minutes on the trails. Pinning Mr. Wenger and Mr. Mourinho against each other as time travelling killing machines. My Dad hates all theses trails, across the digital broadcaster and not just for the big sports clashes. He would prefer his subscription money to be spent on purely programming and for the monthly installment be better value for money. For me, however, the trails, spots, are what makes watching Sky so special. Sky Movies did lead the way until a few years ago, until the movie package was restructured for a purely numbered approach, which of course does not work. Give me Sky Movie Max and Premiere any day. The masters in the editing sweet had worked over time for the Sunday afternoon London derby though. Using the theme music from the fantastic sequel with images of the all star cast for this epic encounter. There is always the possibility that the final spectacle can never live up to expectations. Just look at the battle of the buffet. (Proves that the match was so important that the off the field antics take precedent over the football). For once, the perfect atmosphere was created, placing me on the edge of my sofa, and the hair standing on the back of my neck, as they teams came out on that cold winter afternoon. The scene was set and within minutes, the key battle would commence. Personally I am glad the broadcasters still show such enthusiasm for what can only be regarded as extravagant marketing. Then again this is coming from a guy, who has always watched the intro sequences for all the games I love and actually live for them.

The game itself was played at lightning pace, and my nerves were settled early by Henry. Overall, I agree that this was a game we should have won. Of course draw is better than defeat but to be leading twice and then surrender your lead in such foolish ways is unthinkable. Arsenal were the masters of defending set-pieces. We just seem to be lacking concentration at the back and teams will exploit this unless we improve.

What I tend to do, as the end of the year draws near is to look back at my entries from a year ago. It was not exactly all songs in the street but the capture of Saddam was a big turning point in the struggle for Iraq. A year on there is still much work to be done, and with elections around the corner, will true democracy empower the people? This is not for me to discuss such worldly life changing issues on this blog of shameless self promotion. More suited to the likes of Xercs and Healing Iraq. Leave it in your very capable hands, guys.

Purchased my Christmas Cards, on Sunday at Clinton Cards as has now become an annual tradition. I have stopped making long exhaustive lists on Excel and tend to work from memory now. Each year for some reason the number of cards I both send and receive has been diminishing. Even I am not sending out such examples of egoist eccentricity With all the new technology and ways of communicating, it is surprising that the traditional Christmas card has lasted this long. Perhaps that is an naive statement, as there will always be people who want to send 'seasons greetings' on paper rather than electronically. I agree with sending the odd Christmas e-card, but anything via SMS represents shortsightedness on behalf of the sender at least. With or without royal approval.

Talking of progress. Why are we so slow to taking up new technology here in the UK? At least there are hints of upcoming HD TV broadcasting. Japan leads the digital revolution and it is amazing to discover they have had high definition television has early as 1991. There is demand for a service which promises images that are six times sharper than current broadcasting levels. The truth is out there and being blogged. Then on the horizon is the next battleground. Just when you have finally completed replacing your VHS collection onto DVD and disposed of the ancient VCR. (How 1980s does VCR sound today?)

The rest of this week is just going to be a build to Thursday. I should make more use of my new blog and write something.

Friday 10th December 2004

Almost exactly six months ago, I had my second interview with the City Law firm, whom I started working for eleven days later. In a twist of fate, (or should that be luck?) I find myself in a very similar predicament once again. Following a successful second interview yesterday afternoon, I waited patiently for the phone to ring. I needed some good news. Time was running out, I knew I could not spend any more time 'drifting' at home. The break had done me some good but my batteries were fully recharged and I was becoming restless. When the phone rang, the smile on my face said it all. Yet, there was more a sense of relief than just pure elation. Looking for a job in January, would have been an uphill struggle with my chances diminishing, opportunities closing and the wealth of competition increasing. To be frank, I would not have got a look in. An interview would have been hard to come by. This is the time the job market gets ugly. Not the ideal time to be looking for a job. Though I have consistently follow this argument, that there is never a good time to be looking for a job (unless you already have one, that is!).

Looking back to my blog entries from early June this year, I looked for inspiration. What did I find? A beautiful vision of life before the realism of working in London came to light. I surprise even myself at the quality, clarity and definition to my entries, which at times, take even my breath away. Perhaps that is being too arrogant and self-centred. Is that what having an online journal does to you? You keep looking at the centre, rather than the world around you. Begging to differ, I take the text as it is meant to be, a reflection of my life, feelings and mood combined with the songs being listened to at a moment in time. Yesterday afternoon, as I drove back from my interview, the sun was setting across the Berkshire countryside, I had a longing to record the moment in my blog. This feeling has been missing of late, and I have never felt such a strong compelling to write. I hope this 'feeling' whatever it is, continues. Unfortunately on this occasion, there can not be the under cover surveillance will not be possible. If I was to say, I am making a change in business environment that would be an understatement. All I will say for now, I may be far away from the capital but I am never the less as far away from Royalty.

I have to point out one of the uncanny 'similarities' with June. That Sunday, England played France in their opening Euro 2004 fixture. This Sunday sees London rivals, Arsenal take on Chelsea at Highbury. Arse Blog has the latest. Yeah, I can hear you cry, "big deal" but remember the result on that evening in Lisbon was very difficult to call. So what makes this classic encounter so different? Time will tell. Doesn't help with Rupert's friends hype it up as Judgment Day. I will enjoy how Jose will deal with defeat when he seems so confident of victory. He has to remember it just a game.

Every once in a while, something happens in my life, which turns everything around. To you, on the outside this will seem like a strange way excuse to waffle on about some insignificant highlight. Trust me and stick with me on this one. All will be revealed. I was in India in May 2001, with my family for three weeks. The hotel we stayed in Argra was heavily advertising for a local retail shop, situation down the main shopping district, a stones throw away from the hotel. Yes, the growing middle classes have an aspiration for designer clothes, even in India. If the truth be known, we never got to meet the legendary green crocodile and at the time, it was not something I would noticeably miss. Over three years later, I watching television one idle evening. The adverts are playing and I'm playing little attention. then a beautiful young voice fills my living room and my eyes switch in an instant onto the screen. Sure I had seen the adverts for their perfume but this was something else. Money had been spent on this commercial and to great affect. They were not so much promoting a product, as the brand. Natasha Thomas, the sweet seventeen year old Dane takes the vocal role, supported by the French tennis superstar, Arnaud Clément. While some may argue that celebrity endorsements do nothing for product exposure, I disagree. You have to see the success Mr. B. is having across the pond, where he is a relative unknown and these fancy razor blades are flying off the shelves.

A quick search around the web, I have only been able to find the following, fansite dedicated to Natasha. There is of course the official offering from the suits, sorry I mean record label, Sony, if you prefer something more fancy, polished and refined. It is difficult to describe how I feel at this moment in time. On a cold, winter evening, hearing this song has warmed my heart. You really need to see the television commercial to understand how I feel. Yes, maybe I am fickle for letting a thirty second spot put my head in such a spin but this is nothing to do with the product, the beautiful location or the beautiful people. It is all about the song. My initial reaction on the first viewing, was, "what an amazing song!". My response hasn't changed, only grown. Others will say it is Over Now. But for me, I think this is very much just the beginning.

You're walkin' the wire
Looking for love in between
But you don't have desire
Do you know what I mean?

What kind of love have you got?
You should be home, but you're not
I don't want to believe that it's over now

Tuesday 7th December 2004

Went to see the Incredibles on Sunday evening, with my sisters. This must have been the first time we had gone to the cinema as siblings since Benji the Hunted. That was over seventeen years ago, the UCI Wycombe Six has become the FilmWorks. How times have changed. Managing expectations. That is what must be difficult in not just the movie business but the entertainment industry in general. I am a big fan of computer animation, Toy Story started it all. Then, went I went to see the sequel at the Warner Village in Reading, it took everything to another level. The intro scene was the best I had ever seen, matching, in places, even my dear hero Bond in his big release that same year. The concept behind Monsters Inc. two years later was inventive but at times more directed at the young ones. Last year my friend, Daz had presented me with a DVD copy of Finding Nemo last year, just before I headed home for the holidays. I attempted to kick start a viewing of the animated underwater adventure three times, each ending in disaster. My youngest sister was not interested and I failed to light the imagination of the rest of the family. Admitting bitter defeat, the DVD disappeared behind the other DVD that materialized on Christmas Day. Thankfully, the Disney Channel are screening the British Television Premiere on Sunday 19th December. Perhaps I was expecting too much and was therefore left disappointment, yet I do not want to give the wrong impression. The film is great, hilarious in places and to a certain extent original. However, the plot does have a minor flaw and does cast a shadow over the whole experience. Still go and see it and enjoy the movie for what it is. Entertainment for the children, in the first respect. Also, Disney where are the out takes we have become so accustomed to?

As I write this entry, Arsenal are beating Rosenborg, 4-1 at Highbury, securing themselves a place in the last 16 of the Champions League. Who said anything about a crisis? Bring on the Blues!

Friday 3rd December 2004

In between my two interviews today, I was at home to grab some lunch. While scrolling around the music channels on Sky I came across VH1. It had very much gone over my head, it was the final day of the sacred Immortals Week. I had flicked through the channel throughout the course of the week and very little had been on worthy of watching. Of all the certainties at college, there was one argument which everyone knew Teg would fight to the bitter end. While most of my peer group detested, the King of Pop, you would be surprised to how many listened to the one album which reflects him most effectively as an artist. That was then and today is a different story. Michael has made several appearances on my site already, even in the past year. Here he is again. Smooth Criminal, which one of my dearest friends recalled as their favourite MJ number. Watching the video again, and hearing the beat of the music, I smiled as my mind flashed back to a different time in my life. Maybe I can't be sent back to 1985, but 1988 would be a very close second destination.

I was surprised to see an e-mail from Paul, in my Inbox. He rarely contacts me these days, with work and other projects on the go, so he is not at fault. I had e-mailed him on Wednesday following a quick read of an article from the Next Generation on Guardian News Blog. Almost exactly a year ago, Paul had given myself and Nav access to his treasure trove of digital material on a secure hard disk. Among the cartoons, mp3s singles, albums and software was a gem. Providing us with a special preview and running commentary on this particular video clip, I was surprised to discover, William Shatner giving a smoky rendition of Elton John's "Rocket Man" before a live studio audience. This gem has not remained as elusive as my ex-house mate had hoped. Now available to view on the web by anyone who wishes to see such a act of pop vandalism. Paul's response to my e-mail, was anything but. Rather than discuss the dizzy heights and success of Bill's pop career, he posed me a question. Have you heard Michael Jackson's new single? Of course I had not. I needed no invitation. I was away. I searched the web, various fan forums and other avenues, I had some of the answers but not them all. The single, "We've Had Enough" is the final track on the recently released, Ultimate Box set. This 4 disc audio collection includes rare studio demos and tracks that never made it to the final album cut, plus an previously unreleased DVD from the 1992 Dangerous Tour. Yet, armed with all this information, I still had not heard the track, so I headed over to the Sony site and listened to a thirty second snippet. It started to make sense, the fans had not been wrong (they rarely are). This was a return of something special. We wait for the resurrection. May that day be upon us soon.

Wednesday 1st December 2004

In an ideal world, I would have started writing a blog/journal/online diary much earlier in life. Thinking about it consciously the best moment would have been the summer of 1999. So much was going on in my life. I had just finished my first year at college, had made a whole new group of friends. I had been working for nearly a year and with this came a sense of some financial freedom. Yet, at the time, I had a rather pathetic excuse for a web site, which did little to reflect my personality or uniqueness as an individual. Suppose I had lost the appetite for computers and the Internet. If you really want to know more, you can a quick trip down memory lane via the Info page. Site history is there somewhere. Therefore in a way to redeem my failing to start blogging, in my late teens, I am constantly in the search for blogs by those of this age group. In February this year, I joined the online community for users of the Blogger service. At the time, I had not used the blogspot account I had created since July 2003, but always felt that in time I would find a use for it. The Blogger Forum, is the place to learn more about the potential of blogging, receive hints from the veterans, advice on templates and guidance on content. However, I saw the opportunity to showcase my blog to a new audience and get some feedback on what I should adjust. One of the initial criticisms was the main font for entries being too small, with many readers having difficult reading, particularly some of the longer entries. This was soon changed with a noticeable change in the appearance of my site. Overall I had positive feedback and was impressed with the friendly and almost family nature of members of the group. Returning to get some advice on templates, I was pointed in the direction of various website to download or gain inspiration from templates. One ideal afternoon, I was searching the forums, looking at blogs when I came across this rather interesting link. Soon added the author to my MSN contact list and enjoyed a quick conversation with him over the weekend. A college student studying his A-Levels, is recording, in my opinion a transitional period of his life. If only that had been me, five years ago. Even if I had started a journal of some description as I started University, I would find myself in a much better position that I am now, I digress. Keeping an eye on the progress on this journal and will seriously consider adding Dave to my blog roll.

I am always on the look out for new blogs, whatever their form, shape, subject matter or polictical stance. Currently the eight blogs listed in my 'blog roll' are visited on a daily basis with almost religious conviction. Plenty of space for some more. So please get in touch yith your recommendations.

So a chance for the youngsters to prove themselves at the Theatre of Dreams tonight. Looking forward to the game this evening, there tends to be an air of less expectation on the youth, as they are still learning their trade. We know what the senior squad members are capable of, but with the juniors, it is time to showcase their talent, make a name for themselves and edge themselves into the starting eleven.


Sunday 28th November 2004

This must be a problem that faces many other of my fellow bloggers. What to include in this entry. What is so interesting that it can capture the imagination of my small readership? To be frank, my life is very dull, bland and at times characterless. Yet, I still somehow achieve to write about the things that are important to me, record and reflect. Contemplating is the most important thing. It is the only way I am able to come to terms with my predicament, and then move on with the tools that best equip me for the road ahead. Well, here I am. The clock has run out and little progress has been made. Sure, I may have the few potential nuggets of good fortune, this coming week but in the main I am not that further down the road, from where I was in late May.

Defeat. How do you deal with it? Some people deal with it better than others for sure. Greater men are moulded by suffering humiliating defeat but then still having the gallantry to pick themselves up and have great audacity to go into the next battle, with no fear. This, test of character is not for everyone, which is why I am a strong believer in the saying that heroes are born, they made. Arsenal suffered their second defeat this afternoon, at the hands of Liverpool. Quite innocently I have avoided discussion on the subject of my football team. The talk of a drop in form, lost points and key personnel missing, tends to lower the tone and as much of a shock defeat is to the system, it is never an excuse. My tendancy during these dark times for any Gooner fan is to read and reflect the view of our faithful blogger, over at Arse Blog. Visiting his site, on auto pilot every morning. His words on November 23rd, solemnly written with words that ring so true. Like a general about to lead his band of merry men into battle, he concedes that the past few weeks have been tough and that booing a team which has become to a certain extend the victim of its own success is not the answer. This is the time be counted, no matter how you support the team and what you do. To be hearing this from a fellow fan, was indeed soothing, to know that someone else feels the way I do, does make the issue less imposing. But from an unbiased perspective, I know we are missing one player in particular. One of those unsung heroes. We miss him and it is more and more noticeable as each game goes by.

Watching the game against Liverpool this afternoon, the first half was a non-event, as far as Arsenal were concerned. We were outplayed in every part of the pitch and the Reds controlled the midfield. Very disappointing to watch, particularly knowing the flowing inter passing game we are capable of. I have been supporting Arsenal most of my life, and for the past seven years (via Rupert on Sky) and that has to be the worse performance I have seen from the Gunners. In years past, under Wenger, a poor performance, would not be under the microscope, as we were able to churn out results or score the odd late goal. I cannot identify exactly what the course of our on field problems are, but the courses are clearly evident for all to see and the opposition to exploit. If it just confidence wavering, then these faults can easily be put right. I suppose with a keeper that does spawn some nervousness, it does little to lift the confidence of the players at the back.

My Dad would say, that it is only football. We all know it is much more important than just that.

The greatest test of courage on earth is to bear defeat without losing heart.
- Robert G. Ingersoll

Wednesday 24th November 2004

Finally, after months of idle talk and creative web designer's block. Sixty four days to be exact. In that time, I must have started at least twenty six individual designs, only to go back to the drawing board after spending a day working on each. Looks, like I am not alone. [andrewtegala dot net] is alive. Along with it my first work related blog hosted by those beautiful people at Blogger. This is by no means the final masterpiece. Eventually, the blog will be incorporated into the site, which will make for a seamless site integration. The future is bright!

While I have headed in one direction. JT of Diary of a Fast Food Life fame has gone in the other. On the suggestion of fellow bloggers, he has ditched his 'work' blog in favour of a personal blog, Notes About Life. Making sense of the madness. Or rather I bid you to try and make sense of his madness.

There are many blogs, which I visit on a much more irregular basis. Highlighted as being, always fresh, always chewy. Coming across as advertisement for a mixture of chewing gum and a local Subway. Originally finding the site, when searching for details on the then new MG TF sports car. Although the author does cover a variety of subjects I enjoy, dance music, funny videos (of the e-mail around the office mould) but also technical hints and tips. Something that would right up MightyMouse's street. Anything that saves time appeals to me, so I was extremely pleased to see this time saving article. Highly motivated, I planned to make my own XP installation CD patched with the Service Pack 2. Looking at the Information Week article it appears quite complicated at first glance. However, when I got down to creating the disc on Monday afternoon, I was surprised at the simplicity and lack of expertise needed to create this time saver. Within an hour, I had a working CD, with Service Pack 2 installed. Finally, I can throw away my four year old original XP disc. Let me also explain that this is a great achievement for me. The scale of my projects may not up to the scale of our dear friend, MightyMouse.net. While he over clocks his PC by the Nth degree, I am quite happy to create the odd, "special" CD. Oh, how different lives we lead.

I love radio. No, I am not talking purely about commercial radio or for music radio in particular. I just love the idea of radio and wish I had been part of its more humble beginnings. Not sure exactly when, but I suddenly became hooked on talk radio, in the mid 1990s. It was not later in the decade, when I really began to realise the potential of this medium. But radio is now evolving. The future is Digital. The BBC are leading the way. For my birthday, yesterday (yes, you missed it!) my sisters got me a Pure Digital Pocket DAB 1000 device. The difference in quality from old fashioned FM frequency is amazing. I can only get a selection of stations in my room, but potentially, on the move I will be able to get at least 60! Wow! The best feature is the intelligent ability of the radio to store my favourite stations. This information is complied on the amount of time I spend listening to each one. I just can't wait for digital radio in the car. There won't be a need for CDs or MP3s. Not if you can just connect up a hard drive to the device and hit record.

Since the end of August, I have had a unique black box sitting, proud of place in my living room. Having taken over from a Phillips DVD player it has big shoes to fill. It is only now with the latest release of the XBox Media Centre software. With the assistance of Hussein on MSN I loaded on the new software on Monday night. For once in my short life, it actually loaded on first time. No problems. Although, I still need to edit the XML configuration file. (I will get around to it!) The new software is a major leap forward. In three short months, they have packed in more features and settings that you could ever wish for. Yet, they still are working on the software. Just think, how much progress they will have made in another three months time. One of the most outstanding features, is the ability to view movie trailers, directly from the main menu. Yep, no need to access menu, after menu. Click the link and you are directly at the fruit. As mentioned previously, I am a lousy gamer. Hussein had mentioned to me, soon after the mission do upgrade my console, that I would have the option to play games against users across the globe. I had heard of this major selling feature of the XBox, but was my friend referring to XBox Live?

No, to my relief he was not. He was talking about another option. Kai would allow me to play system link games (meant for LAN gaming, across 8 wired XBox consoles) on the net! I did not realise the huge potential of this. I had downloaded the small console needed to enable my XBox to 'see' the other users online and be fooled into thinking they were on my LAN. But never got around to playing it. Until now. Egged on my friend, I again downloaded the program onto my PC and added him as a contact. The one game I had been given with the console, was the adrenalin pumping, Project Gotham Racing II (now an XBox classic) Maybe it was time, I stopped, playing with myself! Surprised by the ease in which you can join and leave games. Plus the community is well established, with very friendly and helpful people on the end of the wire. You can chat during the game in the Arena chat rooms. After a few races, I was addicted. As hard it has been to keep my controller away from my hand, I have succumbed to the odd challenger most afternoons this week. Including the occasional few races against 'sein! :D Comprehensively beaten on all accounts. All I need now, are some more games! :D Feed me! For the time being at least, feed yourself on some sweet sugar coated icebergs.

Sunday 21th November 2004

The fog was thick, on this late Sunday night, as I headed out onto the M40. The road ahead was a certain as my own future. I suppose ultimately I was lacking inspiration. Lacking the enthusiasm for life, which I had shown and felt so warmly five months ago. Times had changed. Events throughout my life had knocked some sense into me, while events off the pitch, were also playing on my mind. Before I confuse any more readers and deepen the riddle. Let us gain some normality to proceedings. Have you ever felt lost? Wondering where your next big break is coming from? Of course, I am sure you have. But for now, it appears that the wait continues. For anyone who has been waiting for their big break, I know exactly how you feel. This may not be last chance saloon for me, but I do feel, I deserve one more chance. I can wait, for now.

And we made a lot of sacrifice
Undid a lot of ties
Fought a lot of fights
To get where we are now
Just don't ask me how

Thursday 18th November 2004

As I have already noted here, on previous occasions, blogging has now become an important part of my life. Something that I shall never stop doing. I cannot predict a situation when I would ever need to. Regardless of what others may say, this blog will continue to grown and blossom. For some people, catching the blogging bug is easy enough. Losing it can be much more difficult, however I come to the conclusion that there are some bloggers, merely trying on the concept for size and finding it is very much not one size fits all phenomenon. So, yes, I have to report, that yet another blog bites the dust. This after only been added to my personal blog roll, three weeks ago. What a shame! JT was really on to something with his work based blog on the fast food chain, Burger King.

Did you watch the World Premiere of Band Aid 20? It would have been quite difficult to miss, BBC One, BBC Two, CBBC, ITV1, Channel 4, Five and Sky One, were all showing the video broadcast simultaneously at 5:50pm (GMT). Although one of my idols, Madonna introduced the remake, and the video is overall a polished poignant production, something is missing. Whenever you attempt to remake anything, be it movie, game or song. You run the risk of losing the magic of the original or trying to too hard to emulate the original. In this case the artists fall foul of attempting to drag a charity song from the 1980s into the 21st century. Not an easy task. Yet, it starts so well, and when you look at the lineup and lyrics on paper it looks like solid gold. Even the start, with Chris Martin, Dido and Robbie Williams opening the track. That is the only redeeming feature, believe me, it is down hill from there on in.

England game. Against Spain. Starring Looney Rooney and chants of the monkey. What a shame.

Tuesday 16th November 2004

I am surprised to discover that there are some people who can blog first time. By this I mean they can open up Microsoft Notepad (or any third party alternative) or login to Blogger write their piece. Upload. Done. These are the raw blogs, directly from the heart. Providing the purest of emotion. Then there are the rest of us. Those of us, who have to check, double and triple check. Then re-read and get a friend or family member to read (not always appropriate). Then running a full spell check (not always the best thing to do) only to discover several links are wrong and a variety of sentences do not make sense. On a personal note, I tend to avoid blogging on certain occasions. Writing nothing more than the date in my editor, only to find myself lost for words on how to describe the events of the past few days. It must all boil down to one fact. Some of us have it. Some of us obviously do not. For those that have, blogging must be a completely different experience. They see their blog as an extension of their life, and not the reason for their semi-celebrity existence.

Did you watch five on Sunday night? If you did, you were lucky enough to see T3: Rise Of The Machines premiere on terrestrial television. If anyone out there can explain to me how a film, only released last summer, can been shown on the small screen so soon, I would be utmost grateful. What happened to the standard four year wait?

Have you heard it? I was listening to Steve Wright In The Afternoon while carrying out the laborious of reinstalling Windows XP on the family computer. (Yes, I finally got around to this task, after months of discussion and nervousness!) I came back into my room, to check for a driver on the net. Then Steve pronounced the arrival of the record. I stopped to listen. My hope slowly turned into anger. I would not go as far as Pop Justice that the song will mean more children will die, because less teenagers will purchase the track. (That is something that has come to be standard in the irrelevant world of this music blog). My personal view is they tried too hard to match the potency of the original twenty year old track. The fact the project was so rushed and less polished clearly shows in the end product. I would even go to on a limb and say that the second version released in 1989 is better than this one. When I listen to the original, it has a mellow feel that is missed from other Christmas songs. The other seasonal numbers warm the heart and bring back fond memories of your childhood on that special day. The only way to put everything back into perspective, you would put the record breaking single onto your stereo, pondering how lucky you are to be where you are. The Dizzie Rascal rap in the middle of the track, is completely unnecessary and a joke. When has there ever been rapping on a Christmas single? It appears that I am not the only one whom festers such negative feedback.

Then again, having said all that. What would I know? My favourite Christmas song is "I Love Christmas" by the Fast Food Rockers.

Saturday 13th November 2004

When an period in your life comes to an end, there is an empty feeling. Being a creature of habit, a strict routine is very important to me. I long for structure in my life. Without trying to make myself sound like unexciting, I am trying to get across my emotions. It is difficult, because I was never going to be here for a long time. Maybe I just got lucky, and then as the months went by it slowly started to run out. Maybe this is not exactly the right moment in time to reflect on the recent events. I must look to the future and moving on. After all it is never a sad day, when you leave for reasons that will in time become acceptable. Looking back, I turned down a reasonable position, by predicting the date of a future interview (the second, not the first!) and took up this contract. Wise? Time shall tell. Just briefly glimpsing back at the past four months, I looked to the cool blue winter sky so clear through my bedroom window. I smile. Smile for where I've been and where I'm going. The future is bright, even if outside it is cold and bleak.

The world around me changes, people come and go. Yet, I still stay the same. Is this how it is going to be? I realise there is little I can change. I am a nobody, wanting to be somebody. (With little success to date). There is plenty of time and a long road ahead. Let us just gather our thoughts before we take the next few steps. What exactly has been happening over the past ten days? A great source for the latest news in the only acceptable form, a blog.

What have I been up to for the past week? I have finally patched my personal PC with Service Pack 2. So only the family PC left now. However this is only a temporary measure. Both machines are to be wiped, and a fresh install of XP loaded on. All standard software to be installed. Then with the wonder software from Symantec an image to be created using Norton Ghost. This will eventually been burnt onto DVD so I can easily rollback all systems to their original clutter free state. The only problem now is, having two digital audio collections, on both computers. I really need to purchase a new hard drive. But then, I actually need a whole new machine. Then again, as much some of the offers by Dell are mouthwatering. Nothing, nothing can beat giving birth to your own monster. Before any of jobs can be started, I need to think of some imaginative names for my computers and network. I will of course, let you know when I find something that is suitable. This is not the only tasks on my list, my latest project still needs to be jump started. Plenty to keep me off the streets for the next few weeks. Only a few weeks mind!

Wednesday 3rd November 2004

Following on from some of my comments in my previous post, last month I was rather bemused to discover the following article as a headline (is that the right phrase to use?) on BBC News website. Obviously that is taking an extreme example but I do not want to see myself in that dire predicament (which I personally see as a lose lose situation). To be frank, would you really keep a semi-biographic blog, with your own photos. It just does not make sense. I know the blogging world has no rules or etiquette, but there should be room for some common sense. Either you decide to write an open personal blog about your life. Or under alias write, critically if you feel about your employee, neighbour or local MP. Looks like the Queen of the Sky has truly lost her crown. Yet still, I have an overwhelming desire, a burning in my heart, and buzz in my mind to get this blog off the ground and working. Working in the sense, it becomes something important, if only to record my career path.

Thanks for your comments, JT and Nazma. As always this blog lives on the comments of the readers and much of the direction is guided by these views. How else can I improve this site?


Sunday 31st October 2004

In the summer of 2003, when I was considering the re launch of this site, the return was turning out to be more of a retirement rather than anything else. My own lazy attitude was the main culprit on this occasion (and it appears that history repeating itself). In July, I created a blogspot account, with the ever so imaginatively titled, tegala.blogspot.com but I could never get around the fact I would have to come online every time to update the blog. Even if I had pre-prepared my entry in notepad, there is so much tweaking and checking that goes on behind the scenes before the finished article entry goes live. As you now are fully aware, I hate the restrictions of having to conform to the standards put in place by Blogger. So I surfed the web, guided by both Google and Guardian Online, one of the only newspapers to see the potential in web blogs from the beginning. My mission or rather objective was to find a homegrown blogging service which was much more user-friendly and less intimidating. I did not have to search far, I found 20 Six. At the time the membership was very small and including only a small band of geeky blogs but now it has grown to a family of weblogs covering thousands of topics. I cannot explain why I did not make use of the service but there may be an explanation later. I only re-discovered this blog account last week, as the lonely entry of 20 Six Tegala clearly demonstrates. If you had been speaking to me a week ago, you would felt my joyous mood at using this blog as my work blog. Shame that I never used any of the ecstatic feeling into action and yet again my new domains bears some rather arrogant words from the Holy Bible.

If anyone knows how I can kick start this project please get in touch. Knowing all too well the lack of response to my last two requests. I won't hold my breath.

Friday 29th October 2004

At times I find it it difficult to put into words, the story of my life. Sometimes, I look at myself and in the mirror I see, one of the least interesting people in the universe. Giving great evidence for the existence of the great 'nobody' is not hard. Yet the person that stares back at me, with those piercing dark eyes, longs for something. Longs for some recognition, some fame. No, maybe fame is not the correct word. He has a deep yearning to belong, but he misconstrues this desire with wanting to be popular. That goes a long way to explain the existence of this website and this blog. Taking this to a higher level, I look at my life and realise many home truths. My day begins with me, walking from a quiet suburb of Buckinghamshire into the hustle of one of the greatest (and in my eyes, beautiful) cities in the world. Yet, as the moon is high in the cloudy sky, his only friend, as he returns home.

Rarely do I talk about myself in the third person, rarely do I even consider writing my blog in this narrative fashion. Yet, today is different. Today was supposed to be the point at which, a chapter in my life to end. Closure is important, no matter what anybody says. Human emotions does not drift from one scenario to another without some baggage but there is a need to shed as much as possible, in order to move on. To make the transition more stable.

Today was my last day at work. But for circumstances beyond my control, I am still here and there is a job that needs to be finished. It has come to a point, where that has become the priority and everything is just a secondary after thought. I know, once again with the finish line within sight, I would be able to take my foot off the pedal and relax. This could not be further from the truth. I think these final ten days are going to be the most challenging of my four months with the firm. I just have to keep reminding myself that the future is bright, if not as bright as I would have hoped. A voice in my head reminds me of some wise words delivered by a stranger, several years ago. "As one door closes, another one opens..." Funny how I keep shutting these doors on myself. I suppose I can be shown as many doors as possible but it is I, whom has to take the bold step through. Enough talk of my progression up the career ladder (or rather lack of progression).

Still not been able to find the time to work on my latest project. My plan is to incorporate some sort of work log which will take the form of technical notes and observations in my everyday working life. This will not be a form of anonymous employee blog, such as Call Centre Confidential: Next Stop Bombay or Diary of a Fast Food Life. I have no desire to be sacked, but please feel free to read more on this growing trend in the blogosphere. After many years of coding my own HTML for my blog, I was considering using one from two of my currently redundant weblog accounts. However, first a brief history lesson. Is this the right moment. No, so maybe sometime over the weekend. If I can spare some time.

Is it any wonder now the stars around me
Are not the brightest of them all
From standing proud to falling like a domino down
And out somehow
All that I remember now about being by your side
Is having just the most amazing time
But nothing lasts forever
We're just human after all

Sunday 24th October 2004

The only news this week was an unexpected e-mail I received from a member of Bolly Bob collective. With reference to my blog entry from April where I discuss my views on Indian cinema, my comments were, 'very much appreciated'. The main reason for the e-mail was to inform me that I now was part of a growing group of people, with links on to their site. Plus, there was more news on what our favourite villain, Bob Christo had been up to since his retirement from Bollywood in the early 1990s. Although if my memory serves me correctly, he did have a cameo role on the 1997 smash Gupt. It is great to see, that my personal influence, along with those of many other blog writers, has convinced the owner of the site to start up again and give the site that much needed lick of paint. A very much welcomed improvement. Keep up the great work guys! :)

There are many catchphrases that are bounded around. Most of the time, they reflect the popular television series or advert running at the time. Well there has been one such catchphrase that has been doing the rounds at work, over the past few weeks. My friends know my long term fondness for Ali G but I am also a big fan of Borat. Genius. That is the only way I can describe this fictional character from Kazakhstan. I really hope that Mr. Cohen can come up with some original characters to match Borat and Bruno. There has been talk of killing of Ali, as the vehicle runs of commercial viability, particularly after the second series in the US.

To get you through the working week, you need to switch over to Three at 9.30pm on Tuesday evening. Some of you may already be tuned onto this channel, watching Little Britain. I have to admit, I have never been a fan, and just cannot see the appeal. Although I was surprised to discover my Dad is a big fan. Well straight afterwards is the comedy, My Life In Film starring Kris Marshall (of My Family and Murder City). The first episode aired, taking inspiration and paying homage to Top Gun. Each week the series plays around with a movie, putting a spin on the original motion picture, with Art very much playing the lead role. All I can say, is that give this comedy a chance and let us see where it takes us. This is only the beginning.

Crunch time. Come on you Reds! (I think we may be playing in our blue away kit actually!?)

Sunday 17th October 2004

Probably the most comfortable slippers in the world

Saturday 16th October 2004

There was one thing, a prize that was getting me through the working week. Saturdays are generally special. Not that I do anything overtly interesting or sporting. It was my Mum's birthday and I was looking forward to the day. I remember some years having a discussion with one of my good school friends. He was having an anti everything day and detested the fact that 'you have to enjoy yourself on a Saturday night'. Angry at this unwritten rule, he was trying his best to live life without the ties of conformity. I never realised how important the weekend was until I started college. I suppose, after school we begin pursuing our own personal hobbies and interests rather than wanting to meet the expectations of our peers.

Of all the types of movies I enjoy, I just love feel good cinema. What had originally been planned as a family viewing of Bride & Prejudice at our local FilmWorks changed. What is that saying about the best laid plans? Never mind, that is not important right now. My Mother and I headed over to the cinema, formerly known (but still referred to as) Wycombe 6. Although I had heard mixed reviews from various sources and avoided all the press coverage (as much as possible) I went into the auditorium with a clear mind. I left two hours later with a warm glow inside. A beautiful feeling. The movie included everything that a cinema audience love.The hero winning the girl but not at the cost of being entertained. My Mum perhaps enjoyed it more, because she saw some of herself reflected (or rather exaggerated) on screen. Having songs sung in English was a bit strange at first but you soon got used to the idea. I feel that this was done perhaps to appease the Western English speaking audience. And the only way to see this to America (or get the backing of Miramax?) Perhaps. As the final credits rolled, you could see how much fun the cast and crew had making this movie. Something you rarely see, in the cut and throat world of Hollywood, when your next Box Office smash could be last. I really enjoyed Bend It Like Beckham but this movie was slightly different, more grown up maybe. Will we ever see a film like this again? No. This was the final piece in the jigsaw, which has opened the door for the director, from her early days on BBC Radio to the big lights of Hollywood. Good luck to her.

Wednesday 13th October 2004

It is difficult to explain and describe my weekly routine at present. I arrive at Marylebone station around 7.25am, some twelve hours later, I am getting off the train as it pulls into High Wycombe. One word to label my working life, crazy!

I need to get around to working on my new website but for the above reason, cannot find the time. In the pipeline is a new blog based around technical computing and work related issues. Don't worry, I will try and make it lighthearted in places too. This blog, will still be my main port of call to record all my grievances and reflect upon general day to day happenings and of course my personal feelings. All shared to a great soundtrack.

Sometimes days are so hard to survive, a million ways to bury you alive
The sun goes down like a bad bad dream
You're wound up tight, gotta let off steam
They say they can break you again and again, if life is a radio, turn up to ten

Saturday 9th October 2004

My weekend had until Friday been planned out for me. This had meant I would miss the England game. I was disappointed but knew a job had to be done and these sacrifices have to be made for the greater good. It was some consolation, that I would at least be able to get home in time to catch the Azerbaijan on Wednesday evening. At the drop of a hat, or rather the *ping* of an e-mail on Outlook, it all changed. The weekend work was cancelled and I was free. Not a minute too soon, I had loads of things to get done on Saturday and giving my blog some much needed tender loving care was high on the list. But, now as Saturday evening slowly drifts away, I have time to reflect and put things into perspective. Not something many of my peers will be doing at this time of the week, rather they will be trying their utmost to place everything out of perspective and look at everything as if it were a dream.

My love for England internationals stems for a great belief in getting behind our sportsmen and women, regardless of contest, as they fly the flag. This has topic has been covered at length over the past few months in my blog. Sometimes, my patriotism, gets in the way of my love for football, but never overshadows my enjoyment of the game. This week, is a case in point. In the past, the built up to big international matches, would see me drowned in the pre-match build up for days on end, with coverage in the media (mainly the television and newspapers). My working pattern has made me immune to this now. Of course, there is the Metro which I pick up now religiously every morning at Marylebone before heading to catch the Tube. What I do not like about this free morning daily? It only contains the bare facts. There is never any analysis. While some may enjoy this minimalist approach to journalism, I find it patronizing. But that is beside the point. In my previous walks of life, I would be bombarded with coverage of the up coming football game and the constant hype. While I personally do not find anything wrong with this, it has been a change, a welcomed change to not have to deal with all this. At times, I do consider myself living a rather solitary existence, if only Monday to Friday. While some would rebel against becoming a social outcast, I am enjoying the anonymity it gives me. I am a strange in the shadows, a nameless face in the crowd. Well at least until I arrive at work. But even then, I am very much left alone to my own devices.

A popular topic for discussion (well for the late 1990s, at least!) which I have been meaning to include in my blog for over the past month will now be finally be added. There are two reasons for mentioning this now. Firstly, there are a group of blog's which I read on a daily basis, as part of my daily dosage of the internet. Of these, Diamond Geezer is always my second port of call after reading the latest news on the Gooners from Arse Blog. In an entry towards the end of August, entitled, "Ringing the Changes", our faithful London commuter described his recent mobile phone upgrade. This got me thinking. I really need to put my own personal mobile history on my blog. This become very much a passing thought, until in mid September, I actually noted down those important dates, times and model numbers. That was as far as I got. Then, one lunchtime, as I was returning to the office, I noticed something really strange. As you already know, my lunchtimes are frequently spent, with the towering shadow of St. Paul's bearing upon me, with the Millennium Bridge to my left. The whole area is being regenerated to give, Sir Christopher Wren's masterpiece the surroundings it has deserved. Not to worry, only 300 years late, but the scene of a major Pillow Fight on Wednesday. Back to my story. I was heading back to the office, and noticed a smartly dressed man heading towards me. Nothing strange or peculiar in that, I hear you cry. Of course, I can expect to see millions of the same throughout this part of the city. This was an encounter with a difference, for I noticed the glimpse of the phone he had held in his hand, deep in conversation, and I smiled, a broad smile of satisfaction and fond memories. Where will these fond memories take me? To a different world. Let me set the scene. It is Tuesday 22nd September 1998. Having recently started college, a few friends had arranged to go down to Adam's Park (now the Causeway Stadium) to watch Wycombe Wanderers play in the League Cup (then sponsored by Worthington's) Why had we come? It was not the lure of my local second division side at all, but the promise to see on my heroes, if what at the twilight of his glittering career play. (A special dedication to my favourite England number 8 will be included at some point in the future.) Unfortunately, this was not the talking point of the evening. There was someone far more important on the lips of my friends. It seems very superficial now, looking back but at the time, I was over ecstatic. The day before I had got my first mobile phone. The top of the range 6110 was way ahead of any of the rival models and a leap forward for mobile phone technology. For once, I was the first. The first of my peer group to take the leap into the mobile phone market and it felt great. Of course, this novelty feeling did subsequently die down. Though for a few months at college, while the rest of the students carried around bricks manufactured by some third rate manufacturer in the Far East, I had the best model. The Finns have made a bigger contribution to the world, than you will ever know. From that day forth, I promised myself something. I swore an oath of allegiance to Nokia. Never would I purchase, upgrade, steal a phone from any other manufacturer. Regardless of what happened in the future. Have I stuck to my promise? I am a man of my word. Of course I have. Indeed, it would be three years before I upgraded my handset. A lifetime in the telecomms market. However, that is not to say I did not make other decisions to fine tune my phone usage. When I started University, I noticed (with heavy damage to my pocket) that I was sending an extensive amount of text messages. Something had to be done, a solution needed to be found. We are in the cold winter of December 2000, with my life taking on a new meaning as my first semester at De Montfort University draws to an end. Of all the friends I had made at my Halls of Residences, some friendships are built for the marathon that life throws at us. Sippy (blog coming very soon, I am confidently informed!) had been looking up various deals for SMS on the internet and came across an amazing offer from Genie. This name should be familiar to you, as it was backed by BT Cellnet before becoming what is now known as O2. (Note the clever link to Middlesborough). The deal at the time was out of this world. Unlimited text messages. Yes, you heard me correctly. Unlimited text message for the small fee of topping up with a minimum of £10 a month. Originally I was going to port my Vodafone number across to the Genie package. But I, along with my friends, kept failing the credit checks. I recall one evening, calling the call centre, to listen to an amateur phone operator (most likely in his first job) apply for the mobile, by accessing the exact same website, as I would. Sippy, had similar problems, being told that the main reason for failing the credit check, is for having insufficient funds in your bank account. I tried again, thinking a change of bank account would make a difference. It did not. So I took the plunge. Before I left Uni for the Christmas break, I ordered, at great expense my new Pay & Go 7110. In terms of phone technology, this was a giant step (rather than leap) forward from my previous phone. However, I now had a dilemma. Two mobiles, two numbers and twice the aggravation. My phone arrived the day I returned home, and I was eager to try out this new WAP feature. The thing you have to understand, is I am dismissive person when it comes to technology, but one click and I am hooked. This is similar to my relationship to the Wireless Application Protocol. Before using it, I felt it was a silly gimmick which I would struggle to find uses for. Within a month, I was logging onto the Genie service, on a daily basis. One of the greatest features, was being able to enter in two postcodes and be given directions from one to the other. Fantastic. There was also chat feature, checking my Yahoo! Mail while on the move. It also had a built in modem, which was listed at 14.4bps but would only give an output of 9.6bps. I recall, with a smile and hint of frustration, linking the mobile to my PC in halls and downloading my mail via the infra-red port I had purchased. One of my favourite memories of University, which just happens to be mobile telephony related, is the return. When I returned to halls, in January, I had just about learned how to make a call on my new Nokia. Then, a few days later, Sippy arrived. It was like God returned to the Pearly Gates after an extended holiday. He had downloaded all the software, ring tones, operator logos. Very much a late Christmas present, that was well worth waiting for. My love affair with my new phone lasted only a year. It was time to move on. But if the last upgrade, or rather additional phone purchase had been a big jump, the next would seem a big disappointment.

Another a conscious decision was made toward the end of 2001. A year which changed the world forever. It was time to begin living my life. It was time to upgrade my phone every twelve months. It was time to take life by the scruff of the neck. My friends had by now taken the initiative but also lost the importance of brand loyalty. Purchasing the 'deal' rather than phone for the long haul. They had gone from the Sagem or worse still the operators own branded equipment. I stuck to my guns and even by some strange act of fate (or God?) kept to the same family of phone. (This will become more apparent later.) Next on the Teg wish list was the 6210. In reality, this was just a slight remodeling with all the features of the 7110. So I had to after, 3 years give up my first mobile. It was sad day and I wish I could say that it went to a happy home. Rather, I sent it to hell. Funny how some people don't look after mobile phones, or any of their possessions. The next upgrade was exactly a year later, when I took the leap into technicolour, with the 7210. The wireless technology had been improved and now used, GPRS which I was to learn later is used on the Blackberry. The mobile tones had also gone from mono to polyphonic, with the inclusion of Java games that knock the socks (visually at least) off Snake (a download you won't be able to resist!) and the hook for all this? A major media campaign focusing on picture messaging. Once again, I never thought I would want to take photographs. With a phone? Please! But, I did receive a few picture messages on my phone from friends and although I never purchased the camera attachment, the ability to view images and transfer to/from the PC, did come in handy.

In good fashion, that brings us today. Which phone do I have now? Well, that shall be a point for my next entry, because yet again, there is another story to be told and to be frankly honest, a story that can wait for another day. For the time being, I am going to re-issue two questions which I posted at the end of last month. I had only one response and feel that my readers need more time to come up with some suggestions. If you can recommend any computing or internet magazines, please get in touch. If you can recommend an original naming convention for my home network, I would greatly appreciate your input. So far the only suggestion has been the Hobbit network, featuring Frodo and Sam. For further details on this and my other request, go to September 2004.

Thursday 7th October 2004

A week is a long time for us all, and for me to not blog in the last seven days is indeed a sin. Forgive me. So therefore, I find myself on this tiring Thursday evening making an entry. An entry that will most likely be edited by the weekend. Life is busy. Busy is an understatement. I am finding that as the deadline approaches, more and more needs to be done. (Feel free to burst into the chorus of "More More More" by the beautiful Rachel Stevens, at any time...) But the finishing line is in sight and therefore, all I can do is take my friend Nav's advice and 'ride it out'. For I know, deep in my heart that next month, my month, the special time will bring with it a ray of sunshine, amidst the cold autumn nights. A new beginning, a fresh start and a new opportunity. November will be the first day of the rest of my life and that is not something written down, or taken too likely. Few know the struggle the last four months have been. This is not the time to look back. Even if summer has been and gone, and I'm still here all alone! Trust is all it takes, I just have to keep reminding myself.

Friday 1st October 2004

When you place the most important decisions of your working day into others, you are their mercy. When these decisions can make or very much break your day, you at odds. I think, we all as human beings hate being out of the loop, hate more not being in control. I will be the first to admit that I am a control freak. Many of my friends have commented in the past, that I am likely to die from a heart attack, after all the stress I place upon myself to stay in control. During my placement, the journey to work, the responsibility of getting there on time, rested with me. Of course, road works, accidents and general mayhem on the roads affected my journey. However, as I was driving, I was in control. I was in the driving seat (quite literally!) Now, working in London, I find myself at the command of Arrival buses and Chiltern Railways. I have little to complain about this week. I caught he bus, which was on time each morning and apart from one time at the train station, I caught the 6.39 to London Marylebone. With my journey to and from work, going so smoothly, there must be nothing that can get in my way. I wish this was the case, but frustration and disappointment are the words to describe my progress. The work load, is becoming more manageable by the day, but will everything be done and dusted by the end of the month. I was confident, of this being so at the beginning of the week, but right now, I am not too sure. We shall see.

All this talk of decisions being out of hands would make you think I am trying to shed myself from all reasonability. This is not the case, for Tuesday evening turned out to be a mistake. A colleague at work, takes the Central Line home, gave me an idea. Would it be possible to take the red tube line, across the city and then catch the Chiltern Railways turbo back to Wycombe. On Tuesday, I decided to test the water with this journey, knowing full well that this would take longer than my usual route. I did not mind, as I had the company of my colleague for the forty minute trip. As he alighted at Northolt, I waited for the next station, to hopefully catch my train home. I was completely lost, not knowing what time the next train would be and whether it would stop at South Ruislip. To add to the frustration, a vehicle had a hit a bridge on the line between Marylebone and Wycombe, with a knock on affect of delaying or canceling many services. I got to the platform seconds after 7pm, to watch a train depart into the dark Autumn night. At first, I was angry at having missed the service by a few seconds but then realised that I had no idea if it was heading for home or not. There were a handful of other commuters also waiting for trains heading in the vicinity of Wycombe. South Ruislip, is like a growing number of stations, completely unmanned. The public address service is connected via modem to some call centre, so they dial in to give any announcements. (You can clearly hear the touchtone phone over the tannoy before the announcer speaks.) The next service was at 19:36, which meant a good wait. So I headed out of the station and to the nearest newsagent to grab some chocolate. I was low on energy and needed a quick pick me up. On my return to the platform, a group of passengers were in bitter discussion regarding the lack of information from the rail company. I am not sure if this is a feature at all unmanned stations, but there is a novelty assistance system. You press a button and once again, a creaky modem kicks in to dial a call centre and you are connected to an operator. They can then relay back to you real time travel information and the ETA of the next train. After waiting for the advertised train, as shown on the platform screen, I was disappointed to note it vanish from display within a few minutes of the expected time of arrival being reached. I assume it was cancelled. A fellow commuter was at his limit and used the phone device to find out what exactly was going on. During all this time, train after train had been flying past the station, heading north to Birmingham and beyond. We were informed the next train would be with us, within the next ten minutes and would be calling at all the stations we had asked for. I knew this service would be packed and prepared to stand for the remainder of my journey. The only comforting thought was the fact that this was only a twenty minute journey and my sister would be at the station to pick me up and take me home. So much for taking the 'easier route'. I was trying to be clever and lazy. Rather than changing on the Underground, as I do at the moment, I was hoping to find the perfect journey to work. I have discovered that there will never be the perfect journey to work. Well not for me anyway, this is something the Gods have bestowed upon the 'Beautiful Ones'.

There has been a disappointing response to my request for recommendations. Nobody offered to suggest any computing literature and only my ex-house mate Nav, provided a comical look at a networking naming convention. It may not be extremely original but it does work and maybe the 'Hobbit' network will be put in place. For the time being, I have a long list of things to do, before this planned reinstall of Windows XP. I must admit, I am looking forward to it.

So what have you got planned for the weekend?


Monday 27th September 2004

How are you? How was your Monday? Hectic? Manic? Mine was extremely busy, but not too stressful. Thankfully, it is over and there are only another four days of the working week left. Nothing can be worse than a Monday, can it? This is a very brief blog entry pondering a few questions for you.

Firstly I am in the process of renaming and reconfiguration my home wireless network. I want to rename all the computers and the network has a whole. My inspiration comes, as always from MightyMouse and his exciting hardware page. What is the point of calling the PCs, "Family", "Laptop" and "Andrew's Workstation". I want something far more original and interesting. Thinking about this last night, I was going to call the individual machines, Harpo, Chico and Groucho and of course, the network itself, Marx. (Yes, I know there were five brothers in total, but this gives me the option to add additional machines in the future!) So, I am asking you to come up with some original related trios with a concurrent theme, to use as a name for my network. Anything will do, music, movies, pop culture. As long as the connections make sense and the idea of naming convention is usable under Windows XP.

Secondly, I am considering taking out an annual magazine subscription. Please recommend an IT or Internet related monthly magazine that I should subscribe to. I occasionally read, PC Format but am willing to consider any suggestions. Take into account I am not a gamer and do work in the IT sector as a profession. So a magazine that bridges the gap between both professional and recreational use (of a computer) would be fantastic.

I look forward to reading all of your comments and taking on board your recommendations. I will e-mail everyone who gets in touch, so please remember to leave a contact address. Until later in the week (Friday, we love you!) take care, have fun, smile and keep on working hard.

Saturday 25th September 2004

I had seen posters all over the tube network describing this as perhaps the cinematic experience of the decade. With such a great billing, this must be a box office smash in the making, featuring Hollywood's biggest star. (TC anyone?) I am proud to say, that it was none of the above. It was a film, I had already seen. Well that is a lie. The film had come up in one of my first conversations with my housemate Nav, in the week we moved into our student digs in Leicester. Exactly 53 weeks ago, to the day almost. I cannot recall exactly how the discussion surfaced but I remember being asked if I liked martial arts movies. Of course I do, was my reply and I was then quickly offered a Jet Li VCD. I was hoping to watch it all the way through that night, but after the first hour (and first disc of two) I was soundly drifting to sleep. I kept the discs but told Nav, that I would watch the remainder of the movie, later in the week. I never got around to it, and the movie became a distant memory, until last week. Having seen the various posters around on the tube, I contacted Nav to let him know. The news was greatly received that the picture was getting a nationwide theatrical release on Friday 24th September. Before I had a chance to explain any further, the decision was made for me. The weekend of release, Nav would come down to London and we would pop down to the nearest multiplex and watch the movie for ourselves.

Saturday morning came around and I was woken by a text message, just before 10am. I was not really asleep, but was by no means fully awake. I grabbed my phone from the window sill and with blurry eyes, read the message. Nav was in London and if I was free, we could go and watch the movie together. The thought of made me smile, for I had not seen my friend for over four months in which time my life had changed beyond recognition. The opportunity to pick up the pieces from where we had left the film, over a year ago was great. When would I ever before be able to switch from watching a movie on a 17" monitor to a widescreen with Digital Dolby Surround Sound? This was an opportunity I had to make the most of. Even though, later in the morning I had considered not going. Did I really want to catch the train into London and then the Tube to meet up with my ex-house mate. I dusted away these negative thoughts, what was I going to do instead? Waste anyway another weekend at home. Spend the time browsing the net or watching television. What a waste! I made the right decision in the end. I headed over to the station and jumped onto the waiting train on platform 3, at High Wycombe station. The 13:35 to London Marylebone stopped at South Ruislip, which was where I would change for the Central Line to Greenford. It was here, that Nav would be collecting me, even if a few minutes behind schedule. That did not matter, there was plenty of time before our afternoon showing. Nav was staying with his sister, at her flat just outside Ealing, having driven down from Leicester, late on Friday evening. So this pit stop was mainly to take on board some snacks, check the directions to the cinema and catch up on the past few months. It is strange how you come to take some people for granted. People that you see everyday and whom play an integral part in your life. Then suddenly they are out of your life and you move on to something new, the next challenge. Yet, when you meet them again, it is as if time has stood still. They haven't really changed and the reality is that neither have you. Seeing Nav after just a few months, bought back some many memories of my final year at University and some special moments from our student house. He has moved now, to new student digs in Leicester. So that brings some closure to the time at Sheffield Street. A time in my life, that I will remember forever with some fondness.

The clock was ticking and it was getting late. We had to make tracks so we headed out towards the cinema. It was 15:21. Would we make it in time for the showing, it starts at 15:45? To begin with I was optimistic, Nav may not have the greatest sense of direction in the world, but what he lacks in judgment here, he makes up for in some nifty driving skills. We perhaps made the worst decision the second we pulled onto the main road. Instead of taking the A40 directly to Park Royal. We headed into Ealing, thinking the early afternoon traffic would be light and we would make excellent time. We misjudged badly and were stuck in minor tail backs through the borough. As we came up to Hanger Lane, the clock was ticking and we were quickly running out of time. Would we make it in time? My hopes were fading, with the conversations considering our options. A refund? A later showing? My trusted driver would not be dismayed by such defeatist talk. Instead he focused on getting us to our destination in the quickest time possible. The quickest route was closed for business, far too busy and the fact we had to turn back on ourselves in heavy traffic (if we had decided to go that way) meant we would have had twice the wait. So we continued forward, in the nippy Yaris. Heading through Acton, we then made a slight detour around back on yourself to get up to the leisure complex. It was coming up to 4pm and my thoughts of seeing this particular showing of the movie had all but faded. We parked the car, as quickly as possible and raced to the foyer of the cinema. Nav tried his card in the machine, but it just would not print out our tickets. We tried another machine but it was not working either. There was no choice, we had to wait in queue and get the tickets the good old fashioned way, with some human interaction. When the pressure is on, I lose my patience rapidly, so I paced around the ticket office, while Nav waited in line. I turned away to watch the television screen showing trailers for the next Pixar animated feature, The Incredible's. Mesmerized by the action, Nav appeared with the tickets and with great urgency in his voice said it was best for us to catch this showing. We rushed to screen five and briskly walked in. I half expected the film to be in full flow and for the main story to be playing itself out. I was as surprised as Nav to discover the screen blank, and the auditorium half empty. We rushed up the middle gangway, to find some seats towards the centre of the seating stage. Just as we stand down and switched off our mobiles, the opening credits appeared. Never before in the history of my cinema going, had I cut it so fine for a showing. I sat back, got comfortable, and began watching the feature presentation.

Having just seen, 'perhaps the most beautiful film ever made' and if the trivia alone is to be believed, then perhaps that is a fitting tribute. The storyline is at times confusing and you have to be quick to keep up with the pace and changing plot, but overall well worth seeing and preferably on the big screen, it really does do the whole experience a better service.

I wish I could have spent more time with Nav in London but time was not a friend. The movie had lasted two hours and by the time we got back to the flat, it was pushing 7pm. After having some delicious chocolate cake, I asked Nav to drop me off at the station. From Greenford I took the tube up a few stops west to South Ruislip. I had no idea when the next Chiltern Railways service to High Wycombe would be passing and thought I was in for a bit of a weight. Saturday night, meant the both platforms were busy with people out for the night. Within fifty seconds, a train pulled up that was heading directly to High Wycombe. What luck! I boarded an empty carriage, starred out of the window into the dark nothingness and reflected on what I had seen. Could one man really unite a country? There is a blurred line between myth, legend and reality. Nav agreed with me. Hero sits loosely among all three.

Thursday 23rd September 2004

September is briskly rolling past and at times I feel, constantly a slave to time. The days go by and the nights begin to draw in. Autumn will soon be replaced by winter. I should not really think so far into the future. There is plenty of work to be done before then, and as far as I am concerned the future is very uncertain and there is no joy in making big plans. Only to seem them die, in a towering inferno a few months down the line.

It was my father and his generation that experience at first hand, the epic. Not just the epic movie but the grand scale to which all forms of entertainment tried to live up to. If you are old enough to remember, you will briefly recall this movement coming to an end in the early 1980s. you are the one of the lucky ones, for there are a whole generation of children growing up on a diet of bland American comedy and far fetched Japanese anime. Let me take you on a journey. To a time when our minds sparked up at the mouth watering prospect of adventure and fun.

It was the early 1980s, a golden era which saw children's television finally being taken seriously by the broadcasters and producers a-like. Thursday afternoon was a special time in our house. Only one more day left at school and the weekend heavenly near. At 4pm, my sisters and I would settle down in front of the television. It was out time, nothing was more important in the world, for the next half hour at least. My memory is weak, but I vaguely recall the three main characters, all young children, appealing to us all. We were easily able to relate to them and this longing to find what they had been searching for.

"I believe there's a hero in all of us. Gives us strength, makes us noble. Even though sometimes we have to give up the thing we want the most." Just as Aunt May said in Spiderman 2, our story has one to call it's own, but also the comic element of a Laurel & Hardy double act.

I tried to research the series a few times on the net over the past five years, but it was last year when it finally clicked. Towards the end of the summer, I was driving my sisters mad, asking them for the name of a cartoon, we used to watch as children. Then, one night, I awoke, to suddenly have the name of on the tip of my tongue. A brief search on the Internet, gave me all the information I needed to know, but yet again, something else came along and my desire to find about more the series and relive my childhood was short lived and put back on the shelf. When I started my final year at University in September 2003, my housemates Paul came to the rescue. He had a treasure trove of goodies on a 80gb hard drive. The only problem was, he would be very sparse with the sharing this drive on the network. It was then I discovered he had many but not all of the series downloaded on this drive. The moment the drive came online, I grabbed my chance and copied a few of the early episodes onto my PC. I later learned that he had been obtaining these from a source in the Middle East and due to differences in politics he had to cut short a useful friendship. This did not both me too much. Late one evening, I watched the first episode and was taken back to my younger days, in a way I never thought imaginable. But the fact that not all the episodes were there, left the dream unfulfilled and the whole quest unsolved. So therefore, I had to take a decision.

Would I hunt high and low across the information superhighway for these files, with little chance of finding every single missing episode in watchable quality. Or would I bite the bullet and purchase a copy for a nominal fee from a strange across the wire? Knowing the the collection would be complete, with good quality and sound and not having to waste hours searching the net, swung my decision. I got in touch with one of the well published copies and it arrived on 18th December 2003. My plan was to watch an episode a week, from September to June. To date, I have not seen any at all. I just have not been able to find the time to sit down, and enjoy the series for what it was. Something different, something special. As I have great respect for what is a great story, I could never do a weekend marathon, like some completely undisciplined people. If I lost you three paragraphs a go, all you need to know is available there, here and yonder

I would like to apologise for the week long delay between updates. Work is busy as ever, and I just do not have the time to dedicate to my blog as I wish. I have also started a new web project, that will hopefully prove to be very successfully. For now, all I can say is that sometimes a name is worth more that material riches. I can also give some explanation for the poor viewing figures for my favourite soap. I have not been watching the usual early evening slot, but opting for the late night edition shown on Three. Don't worry, I don't think the Beeb will ever consider dropping the show. For all those that have been giving the show criticism, please take it as it is. It is pure escapism. It is to there for you to place your life into relief and realise that things are not that bad. Sure, at times it can be rather dull and uninteresting but overall I personally find it highly entertaining. A particularly favourite episode was, Friday 10th September. Particularly newly arrived, Keith Miller calling Minty Monty throughout the episode! :) (Will somebody tell Teg that it isn't real life!)

Do you remember your first time with CeeFax? Read a great article in the Guardian about the Fax of Life. As always, Diamond Geezer has come on with his own personal tribute. I will ponder my own and then and some thoughts over the weekend. Until then, hope you all have a great Friday! :)

Thursday 16th September 2004

It has been a while. Any prolonged break from my site, usually equates to many things going on in my life. Although this is not strictly the case, I feel obliged to explain my absence and fill in some of the gaps. My hours at work have been extended, so I am now working 8am until 6pm, which in reality means I leave the house at 6am and get back around 8pm. This new regime has only been in force since last week, but I am already feeling the strain. Not only is the week much longer, the day is just more physically demanding. By the time I get home and eat, it is very much time for bed. Is there a light at the end of the tunnel? I am sure there is, for I have been here before and perseverance is the key.

This will be a rare weekday update for at least the for seeable future. Neglecting my blog is one of the few things I hate doing. Mainly because I want to record as much of my life (or events of my life) and as frequently as possible. This hit home sharply when I was indolently looking back at entries from last year. It was yesterday, last year when I moved into Sheffield Street, Leicester for my final year at University. Even now it feels like that was in a previous life. What takes me back in an instant, is the occasional brief e-mail from my old housemates coming to the end of their courses. The reflect aspect of the blog will be taken to another level, as time passes. It will be amazing, to be able to look back on four, eight even twelve years of my life on paper. (Have I been self indulgent enough now?)

What have you been up to? I went to see The Terminal on Sunday evening. I had little expectation but this movie showed great promise and brought me some warmth, with the flickering light entertainment. I would highly recommend you go and watch it, particularly when I tell you that, I was going to watch, Dodgeball. It is funny how when decisions are made for you, they do actually make sense in the end. Even if you feel somewhat bewildered to begin with.

Hoping to begin work on my next major web project in the next few weeks but with work taking up most of my time, I am not sure when I will get started. I also lack the creative inspiration that is always important when embarking on something new. What is the best way of selling yourself, without seeming too confident, even arrogant yet still aiming to demonstrate the power of your strengths and underline the insignificant of the few weaknesses that we all possess?

Sunday 5th September 2004

How was your weekend? Mine has been distinctly average, just like England's performance against Austria. I read on Arse Blog how distinctly average our national side are, and would easily be beaten by Arsenal. While I do not disagree with the view, my personal feeling is that as standard as they are, they always produce moments of magic (Euro 96, World Cup 1998, 2002 and even Euro 2004) which make them worth watching. Following England is special, even if full of such heartbreak. Perhaps I am always watching these matches with rose tinted glasses. Who knows? Bring on Poland! :)

I did not mention it in my blog, but I watched Shanghai Noon on Christmas Eve last year. I quite enjoyed the movie, it did not take itself too serious and was just great fun. Last night on Sky Movies saw the premiere of the sequel Shanghai Knights. Once again the combination of Chan and Wilson pays off in an highly entertaining movie. Sure, historically it does not make sense and has many holes, but this is not a documentary and has the licence to be liberal with the historical fact. One scene was highly memorable and is described as the 'pillow fight scene' with the two leads finally bonded together as friends. The song that plays during this scene was significant. Mainly for the fact that I had been attempting to hunt down the 1980s cover for many years. The lyrics are sung at pace and it is difficult to note even the chorus. Originally a hit for George Flame & The Blue Flame in December 1964. The version more familiar to me, was constantly heard on commercial radio when I was a toddler. It has been played on VH1 several times but I have never caught the artist or name of the song. Until now. Simply called, 'Yeh Yeh'. Covered by the band (not solo artist) Matt Bianco in October 1985 and if I recall correctly has a very funny cheesy pop video. It is one of those songs, that appears at first hearing impossible. Impossible for you to learn the lyrics. There are a few songs out there that fit into this category. After the thirteen run through, you soon pick them up.

Not much else to report at the moment. I do not think I will be update the blog until next weekend. Working late, so I am not home until 7pm most evening and only go on the PC to check my mail. I am thinking of starting a photo blog. Something that will record a collection of daily images that I take, or perhaps more likely images of the week. Any ideas on which service I should use? Preferably I would like to use something that is free, as the images will be slow and of medium quality. Let me know your thoughts.

Friday 3rd September 2004

My weekend officially began as I boarded the Bakerloo tube train to Marylebone. As I boarded at Embankment, I heard the unusually stern voice of the driver over the tannoy. He gave a safety speech about staying behind the yellow line and continued, "a lot of unnecessary paperwork and it's Friday evening, I do want to get home at a decent time tonight...". Greeted by a collective chuckle by all those in my carriage. It was Friday, we had got here. Even though only a four day week, it felt like I had done the work of five. Looking back, I was still regarding Monday as a working day, even though it had been far from it. Work has been very busy and with summer very much over the pressure is on. But I think I am more than capable of meeting this challenge. I just have to keep focus and put in more effort than before. From now on, every step counts.

Over the course of the week, there were many subjects which I wanted to blog about. But as usually they are now far from my memory, with the weekend having arrived, there is nothing better to do than relax, chill out and recover from all that commuting. I will try and blog once again over the course of the weekend. Right now, I just want to sit down and take the weight of the world off my shoulders.

Wednesday 1st September 2004

Wednesday already? Where has the time gone? Does it feel like September? No, it does not at all. The summer is dying away and the train is getting for embarkation. Destination, the end of the year. Are you ready? Neither am I. I am sure together we will make it to the finish line, only to find this vicious circle starting again.

"Your warranty has just been voided by the way..." Not the words, you want to hear on a lazy Sunday morning. Very few things can get me up early on a Sunday. The thought and possibilities of converting my lonely games console, which was in fact, just a large paperweight, come desk stop. I had hardly played games on the machines (as my previous posts clearly describe). In several discussions on MSN Messenger, I had pestered Hussein, on how long the process would take in total. Two hours, was the likely estimate I had always got. He had also always given me the option to drop the box off, and pick it up again the following weekend, so I was not waiting around. There would be no fun, it doing that now, would there? So the let me take you on this adventure and fill you in on the background. Saturday evening, I called our local superhero, purely to double check the times and also if all required parts, tools were available. I could provide the special screwdriver, but sliver conductive paint was missing. This was the first of many setbacks. This seemed to the biggest obstacle in upgrading my console. With hope still strong in my heart, I headed off towards North West London around 8am, on Sunday morning. It was an unhealthy time to be awake, but it was worth the effort. Of course it was. Even if I came back home with a dead junk of metal, silicon and plastic.

I would have met one of my Internet idols. Someone whom I have looked up the past eighteen months, learning all about this live through his fantastic log. Felt strange when I finally got to his house and saw him. How would you describe meeting your idol? You think them greater than us mortals, yet when they appear before you, there is still that distance. That sense of being star struck! Although, this was the first time I was meeting Hussein, there was no time for showing too much respect. There was a job to be done. We didn't have much time. Many other time. I was greeted by a relaxed, confident Hussein, aiming to get the job done. But disappointment was also on the doorstep. No silver conductive paint. The solution? A trip, to Maplin in Watford, adding at least another hour onto our scheduled upgrade time. My XBox was quickly unboxed and placed on the Jodiyawalla dinner table. It was turned over, as Hussein searched for the special screwdriver in my modest toolbox. As he unscrewed one of several metals screws to crack open that XBox. Be it by a third party, my warranty which still had a full four months left to run, had now become, completely void. A message in my head was telling me, "I hope this works...". Did I have anything to fear? I was not sure. Normally, when you meet someone for the first time, you enjoy a meal, a drink or even a movie. You do not normally pressure them to mod your video console. I thought he had be optimistic with the time frame, but then again, what did I know? The whole process may have only taken an hour but Hussein wanted to add additional time in case we were facing problems. The first problem was on how to flash the bios. I will keep the more technical information on a separate project page. For now, I will keep it simple and explain what went wrong (well almost). Instead of hot swapping hard drives (not for the faint hearted) we were using the Mega X Key. This was to theoretically make the entire upgrade process much easier. In practice you transfer the saved game hack from PC to the key via USB. Then transfer from the key to the original XBox hard drive and then flash the bios. What could be simpler? Well it took a solid hour to transfer the game over to the key. The reason for this was, the 12" Powerbook G4, Rev C being used as the project machine was running Mac OS X. I am not really familiar with these machines, but the file extension for saved games was not being shown. This was because VirtualPC was running on the Mac. Basically simulating a Windows 2000 partition. But as this was a fresh version, file extensions were hidden and as WinZip was not installed we could not have opened the saved game files. We did not know they were saved and hence compressed in zip file. This was only discovered after switching to the humble PC and Windows XP. With the game transferring and appearing as required on the key via the load game option in James Bond 007: Agent Under Fire (The world famous signature tune, does get rather annoying after hearing it thirteen times, almost on continuous repeat!).

With all the preparatory work complete, we headed across to Watford. Luckily the journey did not take as long as I expected and being a Sunday morning, traffic was light. We parked in one of the car parks just off the High Street. As we left the car and headed towards the main pedestrianised area. To our right, further up the street we could hear the small collective chanting of sanskrit from some converted Hare Krishna followers. My sense of direction is not great but luckily Hussein just has the ability to find a place quicker than me. (Seeing a passerby carrying a box in a large Maplin bag was a major giveaway!) So we headed in the direction in which he had came, to discover the shop was just a few hundred yards away.We got to the shop, to find it moderately busy. I searched around aimless to begin with but eventually we found the item we had been looking for. Yet, this was not enough, we needed a fine art brush to paint over the specific boards on the board. We went over to sales assistant Wayne, a 20 year old, who appeared completely oblivious to the our requirements. We explained that we needed to paint over to points on a PCB. He looked bemused and without any emotions advised us to head for an art shop instead. We headed for the Harlequin Shopping Centre and WHSmith. It is surprising how the quality of customer of service suddenly changed. We went from economy to business class within the space of a few minutes walk. The female sales assistant at the stationary store, was stacking some shelves but was more than happy to leave her post in order to provide us with the articles we required. Not only that, she went the extra mile, showing us a range of brushes and eventually we found one which was ideal for the job. Happy, we headed back to the car. As I started the engine, I asked Hussein, "How long do you estimate we got left?". Rambling on in his way, which was just his head whining through the various processes that remained, he said an hour and a half at a push plus the time it would take to get home. I headed back to Hussein's house with a contented smile, the project was back on track and my faith in my friend had grown. He would get the job done.

The clock ticked over to midday as we returned to the house, and Hussein got back to work. Wanting to record everything on my blog and also to provide photographs for both my own project and Hussein's XBox page. Some people are just built for certain tasks and Hussein takes to this type of advanced DIY. It was as if he had been programmed before birth to use technology. Watching him work was a breath of fresh air. I have met many techie people in my life, and I am sure I will continue to do so. All, up to now have shown signs of great frustration when the technology is not going their way. Instead of throwing things around and bashing at the keyboard, Hussein just would logically think of the best strategy in order to get the job done. He did give me several heart attacks, I must admit. When attempting to flash the bios on the XBox, an error code would appear advising us to Contact Customer Support. I thought my worst fears had come true and my XBox was dead. Luckily there was someone there who had a good head on his shoulders. He was already carrying out the diagnostics and working through in his head, what we should do next to try and resolve the issue. The fact that the console could be successfully restarted meant all was not lost.

It took another few hours but we finally realised what we had been doing wrong. I saw 'we' but it was Hussein who found out the problem. We had been loading the saved game directly from the Mega X Key. However has this was making major changes to the bios, it would not copy over currently and the actual upgrade would not finish copying. Then as the XBox was reloaded the error message would appear. We needed to transfer the game over to the standard hard drive. Hussein discovered that we need to select the actual saved game, rather than the title itself, to get the option to transfer from the USB device to the hard drive.

It worked. Would you believe? A simple 2 second operation had taken over 2 hours to do. I felt rather stupid, but then I think Hussein felt more embarrassment. He was firstly much more of a gamer than myself and had more experience with this console than me. After all, mine had been boxed away for most of this year. Not to worry, we were making progress, if somewhat heavily behind schedule. It was 3pm, and I had hoped to have been home by at least 1pm. To make matters worse, we had treble checked the alterations to the motherboard, originally convinced that the points had not made the necessary contact. The moment we had all been waiting for happened and as a broad smile appeared on my face, I began to lose my patience. Starting to pester my friend on how long the final few processes would take. I should really not have let him to such distraction and instead just let him get on with the job at hand. I was hoping to leave within the hour but I was again being far too optimistic. Configuration was the final task but this was broken down into several other small tasks. Firstly backing up the data from the old drive to a PC. Then drop in the Western Digital Caviar SE drive. Then coping back the files from the old hard drive. The backing up process literally took a few seconds so I expected the same when placing the files and folders onto the new drive. But this was not the case. The whole process took over an hour with a feeble transfer rate of 40kb/s. Hussein explained that this was due to the Evox bios and to safe guard again file corruption during transfer the rate was capped. I really could not understand it but waited, if somewhat impatiently for the files to transfer. Meanwhile, Hussein setup the configuration for XBox Media Centre. More details to follow on my Project page. Stay tuned. Then to kill some time, I watched Hussein play Doom 3. Now I happily admit that I am not the bravest person in the world, but just this computer game really scared me witless. My mind drifted as my remember the brilliance of the first Doom. Let me just put it this way, this is not a game you would play in the dark, with your surround sound system up high. The thought alone sends a shiver up my spine.

With everything loaded up and working as required. The day was gone. There was not even time to transfer over some of the music videos which were on Hussein's server. Never mind, I am sure I can come back in the future. I would like to extend my gratitude to Hussein for taking time over the Bank Holiday Weekend to mod my XBox. I would also like to extend my thanks to his family for putting up with for several hours longer than expected. At least they were able to squeeze in watching Khan clinching sliver at the Olympics. For months I had dreamed of the possibilities of having a media player in the lounge. Something beyond a DVD player. Finally, my dream has come true. There is still plenty to explore. I have only touched on some of the features available. I mainly use the device at the moment, to watch my personal collection of music videos and MP3s. There is web radio, DivX movie encoding and the ability to play emulators of good old SNES games ;) Good Bless you XBox users! :) Now where is that XBox remote control?


Monday 30th August 2004

Oh yes, my XBox was successfully upgraded yesterday. It took longer than the two hours we had scheduled for the urgent maintenance Expect full details on my forth coming project page. Hopefully, I can find time later this week, to add this to my site and also go over any other parts of the site that need attention. I also have to write up about my weekend, Arsenal's recent record breaking form, music and other things on my mind. For the time being, I'm going to go and continue to work out all the bells and whistles on XBox Media Centre (commonly referred to as XBMC). Still need to get some emulators and games loaded on yet! :)

Friday 24th August 2004

For all those days, when I have nothing to really write about and end up waffling about almost nothing. This is the entry, which brings together the culmination of a hard working week, the reward of a bank holiday weekend, and the realisation, that I'm slowly learning, "life is more than just okay!". Life always appears to stabilize for me around this time of year. As I have mentioned previously, Super September is always special. Why is difficult to explain, I suppose as we make the transition from the summer to the autumn, with the mild weather, darker nights (& mornings) and the realisation winter is not too far away. There is also the reassuring smile on my face, as I watch the children going back to school. Although in their shoes, many years ago, I feel a warmth in my heart, knowing those days are long gone.

Have you been living your dream, recently? Perhaps this summer? For me, I have to confess, feel I am touching more and more of my dream, with every passing working week. This may seem like a really strange thing to say. Yet, all the things I have ever wanted to do, I have achieved within the past few months. Since as long as I can remember, I have wanted to work in the City. Although Greater London does appeal to me, there is still some distance for the true buzz of the city life. Everything appears to have fallen in place. This is not the first time, and I am sure it won't be the last. Yet, I still find myself pinching myself on how lucky I have been. Maybe luck has nothing to do with it. Choice and the decisions of these choices have had a bearing on all the outcomes to date, and will continue in the future. I have made decisions and other have made subsequent decisions, yet we have found ourselves in the same boat. Everything happens for a reason. I have learnt that over the past few years. So perhaps I should enjoy the quiet moments of happiness, and spend less time reflecting on more of the sadness. The times pass and the future brings a brighter tomorrow.

The dream I have been living, has been tinted throughout with an American influence. This may not be the best time to mention my admiration and love for America and it's people. Why should I shy away from my true feelings? It may be a dream. But then this dream appears to be becoming more and more a reality, with every step I take. Not a major step, but small steps to at least attempt to live the consumer ideals which our cousins across the pond have been experiencing for years. Do you like doughnuts? Back in the mid 1990s, every Saturday, my sisters and I would delve into a nice chocolate doughnut with cream filling. Those were the days, waiting patiently in line at the market stall in town waiting for the cheerful trader to bag our doughnuts. Then, itching to get back home and enjoy them. Since those memorable days, I have never really eaten them. Then came, the KK revolution. I only discovered the company Krispy Kreme while watching a Money Programme special, last year on BBC Two. Little did I know then, but a few months down the line, my craving for doughnuts would return. The flagship store in the UK was to be in a little know, foreign owned corner shop in Knightsbridge, London. Highly impractical, for an office worker, needed to start the day off in the most unhealthy way possible. Although perhaps the trip down to Knightsbridge on the Piccadilly Line. There had to be another option. I was getting used to the fact that everywhere I look now, there is always a failsafe. Looking across the web, with the help of Google. I found some promise on the other side of the river, as you head East. Having already taken a trip there, a few weeks earlier, I should have found the store, then rather than waiting now. But this was not to bother me. So I headed to the metropolis, that is Canary Wharf and the Docklands. Again, the hints of the American dream, came through, as I feel the towering shadows of the great skyscrapers bearing upon as I leave the tube station to walk around the complex. There was no real, need to do this, but I after being on the Tubefor a while, I wanted some fresh air. I then turned back on myself to head back into the station. The shopping centres, of which there are two, are built underneath the business complex and ajacendent to the tube station. I towards the centre of the shopping complex, passing the entrance to CitiGroup on my left. Up head, was the entrance to HSBC. Then, I saw the prize. The reason I had trekked across the other side of London. I was frankly somewhat disappointed. Mainly because I had expected a store, rather than just a side kart. I was not going to let this get in the way, of this new experience. Before I had time to think, I was approached by an employee, who was very courtesy, wanting to help me. A friend had mentioned that the best option, on your first time is to go for the single glazed doughnut, which is their best seller. So, I ordered 24. No, before you start making wild accussation on my greediness, I bought them for my colleagues at work. (Why else would I be here, just before 8am on a Friday morning?). I ordered a tea, with my order, using the spare few minutes I had to refuel and take in my new enviroment. Everybody was heading to work around me, and many were in their own quiet little worlds. Ask I made for my order and the two large boxes were being bagged, I looked up and smiled at the attendant. She must have read my mind. I had been waiting for her to say something. Having already had my expectations lowered by the size of the actual store, I did not expect for it to be said. Yet, it was said. Said with such feeling and consideration, it made my day. Looking back, it was more important than I imagined at the time. "Have A Nice Day Sir!" And it definitely was, after tasting those delicious doughnuts.

Thursday 26th August 2004

Mod chip? Where we're going, we don't need no, mod chip!

I have always wanted to have a modified console. This steps to the original Playstation console. I will have to be liberal with the truth here, as I do not wish to find myself with legal writs placed at my door. An old friend, had setup a site online, carrying out the job of modifying the Sony. (One a side note, does anyone remember the big jump from 16 to 32 bit gaming?). Although his business was only modestly profitable, the legal eagles over in Japan and the States found out about much of the illegal sale of goods and services for their product. A product that had come from nowhere, to really knock out Nintendo and Sega. I knew little about it at the time, but soon after my friend contacted me to tell me that lawyers representing Sony UK had been in touch. He had 30 days to remove the site, and any infringement of Sony copyright (logo and use of their copyrighted trademarks) or face legal action. Later I would discover, this was the kinder, softer approach. Rather than raiding the premises of the domain registrant. This episode, put me off the gray area of the gaming industry. It happened, if you got away with you (most did!) but if you didn't, it was curtains (almost quite literally). Ultimately, I was not that interested. A games console, was at the time just that. I had a PC, which although being extremely flexible and upgradable, it fore filled all my needs. The multimedia revolution and the ability to network almost anything has changed that. So, this weekend, after some four years out in the cold, I will be heading into the world of the mod chip. Hold on, that is not quite true. Many people will tell you that you need a mod chip. This is not the case. You do not. It is a major misconception, even for someone as technically well read as Hussein. Before you embark on any project, you have a vision, a dream, if you will. In esscene, this is what you aim to achieve after your hardwork, dedication and time have been put in. In this case, the dream was itself, a real product, a definity reality. The KISS range of DVD players are something else. They contain ethernet ports with support for streaming DivX file format, the first mainstream consumer player to do so. That was product, I had to better It was not until in mid July, I was discussing online with my techie friend, Hussein about the possibilities with modifying the XBox. It was then I discovered exactly what could be achieved and how far the XBox web community had gone from taking an extraordinary console and making it into a much more versatile and useful tool. :) The thought of having to open my XBox and solder onto the motherboard is not a decision you take likely. Knowing that there are serious implications for even the smallest of problems could result in a plastic box being taken home.

It was to my sheer joy that, a few days later I heard again from my dearest friend, Hussein. His tone had changed, his entire attitude had changed. Gone was the cautious careful words, to be replaced with positive personal projections. It could now be done, without too much hard work, and even allow for the expansion from the current drive in the machine to 120 gigabytes. As I have explained already, I am not a gamer. I am more of a entertainment person. The opportunity was now given to me on a plate. I could get the XBox to replace my current dated, Phillips DVD player in the lounge. This would not only make the console the sole new wave media player, but it could also hold mp3s, music videos, divx, and allow for other possibilities, such as internet (web) radio. I had planned this project for Sunday 22nd August. It was not to be. Problems with delivery meant, although I received my new hard drive, my Mega X Key and DVD remote never arrived in time. I had to reschedule with Hussein. Next Sunday, the date was set.

Tuesday 24th August 2004

It is great to hear from an old friend. Particularly, when it has been so long since you last heard from them. Mid morning, I was busy answering various support calls, and the end of the working day seemed miles away. I have MSN Messenger running in the system tray. One new message, the pop-up alerted me and I was surprised to discover it was from my old flat mate, Paul. The subject of the message also threw me off slightly. I was puzzled. I clicked to view the message and all my questions were answered. Of all the songs I used to play, back in our students digs, MJ material was high up on the list. Particularly, this sugary ballad, sung with such sweet affection, it touches your very soul. Paul had discovered a recent cover of one of my favourite songs. Once again we come to topic of cover songs. Certain bands just do not deserve to release any music, let alone be given the unjust right to recreate or rework a classic song by an established artist. Then, there are some bands that have earnt the respect of the industry, so can live up to the mountain that stands before them. I arranged for the song in question to be transferred to me via IM, but Paul would not be available at 8pm this evening. So instead he placed them all on his server and gave me access to a shared directory. Eagerly I downloaded the track as soon as I got in from work. My reaction? Very few artists can show Michael Jackson, the respect he deserves and still hold true the most important integral parts of the song. It continues the airy feel of the original yet captures the raw feeling, with a more acoustic arrangement. The vocals are strong, matching and at times surpassing, The King Of Pop. Almost acapella, with the guitar strumming in the background, in place of the electronic synthesized beats from the Thriller original. The super group are back, and not a minute too soon. As Aderemi put it in his notebook (blog is far too common, these days!) they are purely soulful and old school. Just like, when an icon of the 1980s, was at his BEST! ;)

Monday 23rd August 2004

There is always a rush, as you exit the train at Embankment. You mentally try and prepare yourself, to get onto the Bakerloo Line train ending North. The main reason for this mad dash, is the fact that the journey to the other platform is littered with obstacles. I wait patiently, as we pull up to the platform, glaring faces from the other side of the glass, eager for their journey to begin, showing little, if any courtesy, standing directly in front, blocking the path as you attempt to exit. Usually, I am at the front of the queue of people leaving the carriage. Not today, with three people ahead, so I had to act quick. My steps lighten as I sneak between the mass of people, heading in the same direction. Then there are the stairs, heading in an Eastly direction, steep but somewhat awkward to travel down with so many others. Not a problem for the 'professional commuter' (or should that be cattle user) as I now regard myself. I head towards the left stairwell, and hit turbo, leaping down the stairs at record speed. Round towards my right, are three more steps. Then we take an abrupt right, with many platform and lines converging. You heard a train pass, uncomfortably loud above your head. Three more steps to your right, but you are heading left for the escalator. I swiftly slide to the left hand side and accelerate down the revolving steps at high speed. Then, I turn right, sharp left, hit turbo again. In doing so, I heard something hit the ground. It was my pen. At first, I was going to stop and retrace my steps and pick up the pen. But I did not have the luxury of time, my train was pulling up the platform, and would be gone within seconds. As I boarded the tube train, I realised I which pen I had dropped and tried my best to kid myself that I did not care. Deep down I did. For somehow, would know the company I worked for, if they picked up the pen. It was indeed, a business pen. Little did I know how events in the following few moments would unravel. An middle aged Asian gentleman, smartly dressed and well spoken, had picked up the pen has I found a seat on the empty carriage. You know the type, he would not have looked out of place, at your local newsagent. Instead of asking, "Did you just drop a pen?". He asked, "Did you just get off the Circle Line train?" When I nodded in agreement, he passed me the pen. My cover had been blown. What if he read my blog? What if he, would soon add a comment revealing all. Of course, I am crazily exaggerating, but is there the possibility? That on my daily ride on the Underground I casually smile at strangers on the train. Strangers whom may know me better than I know myself? Perhaps, but my blog does not have that mass appeal, some of the more mainstream blogs have. Yes, it is selfish, but it does have a mild purpose and slowly, together. Yes, you and me are making some progress to that end. These were just some of the thoughts that raced through my mind, as the Asian 'Uncle' headed back to his seat, diagonally opposite from me. As he looked up, he smiled. A coy smile. Was my secret out? Had the superhero been unmasked? Was my the secret safe, with this stranger?

On another note, did anybody notice, the large number of references to Back To The Future and Michael J. Fox in the 3rd series of Bo! Selecta. the quality overall went, this time around because they messed with the format, and the stars became bigger than the stars (does that make sense?) Some of the new characters did not have the magic of the older ones. (Did anybody else miss, a certain magician?) Will there be another series, or will the show die a quiet death? The later feels more likely, more predictable and just like the shows creator, much more fitting.

How was your weekend? Mine was quite uneventful. I watched Johnny English on Sky Movies on Saturday night. Generally, it was a good way, to while away a few hours of the evening, before Match Of The Day. (Strange how Sky Sports cannot even come close with their Football First feature, "Game Of The Day". How tacky does that sound!) I was out, so missed the record leveling match against Middlesborough on Sunday afternoon. For the full match analysis, from the man who knows, go to Arse Blog. Not much else of note, to report I am afraid, as the month of August draws to a close. Work is very much steady, with the last band of my colleagues taking their summer holidays, to hotter and more gentle lands. I have never been to Notting Hill Carnival and have always wanted to go. Once again, there were discussion with my friends at college of going in 1999, although no body was in the mood following events earlier in that summer. Maybe, this year? Maybe the steel drums will be playing just for me this weekend. :)

Thursday 19th August 2004

I will not lie to you, I have not been to any concerts. Of all the artists in music history, past and present, there are only two for whom I would have spent good money to go see live. Although currently fighting a legal court case, which could last for months, MJ would be the one! Who would come second? Well there are very few artists musically who can compete with Michael Jackson. Elvis, of course. The queen of Pop, started her Re-Invention tour on Saturday. There are very few artists that have such an impressive back catalogue, which is able to embrace your every mood, emotion and time/scenario. The music channels on Sky were playing Madonna's Greatest Hits. I have both the Immaculate Collection and the more recent, GHV2. Each song is a classic. Within a second taking you to a very personal time and place. The power of music, something that you can never define but when you feel it, you know that you have been touched. Ask some of your friends what their favourite Madonna track is. I can guarantee that they they chose a song from her earlier career than from her more recent material. They are likely to chose "Crazy For You" or "Cherish". There is one act of criminality. My favourite track is missing from the first greatest hits collection. Hoping to view the music video over the weekend, I was disappointed that it was never shown, not even on Magic. At 10pm, I had the television on, and was scrolling down the music channels (you know the drill by know guys, 440..441..442...) I reached Q and stopped. The song had just started, and the background was blue. If anyone can explain, why "True Blue" is not rated as one of Madonna's greatest songs, please let me know. Surely she should be forgiven for the peroxide blonde hair and pocadot dress. Then, would you believe it, I receive this e-mail in my inbox at work on Monday, last week. The plot does not just thicken, it explodes...

When did you last burn? No, this is not some insane reference to the recent number one from Usher. I mean, created an audio CD. For me it has been several months. I think it was the time I was in between jobs. Thankfully this was a busy two week period during Euro2004. I am itching to be given the opportunity to burn and the moment cannot come too soon. I have added so much music to my world famous, Audio collection. The reason for the delay is quite simple. I no longer commute to work in my car. The twenty hours of commuting are either spent a drifting into micro sleep or reading (unfortunately not some major literacy work, but the Metro). With my mobile audio collection, it is merely a case of re-issue a few albums for updates. However there is one album that I have forever been thinking about but never got around to actually producing. The Drive Easy album was to be full of selective mellow tracks. My sister, insisted on Life for Rent for Christmas last year. Originally, I had always believed that Dido was a artist producing quality, if somewhat bland material. This changed, the moment, I started listening to this album. My sister had it in the car, and told me to select track six, late on Monday evening, as we drove into the night. Don't Leave Home, is an extremely interesting track,with lyrics that do not just merely entertain, but generate a response, a reaction. The title track, itself is uniquely sentimental yet still powerful enough for you to be moved. This is one artist who is going to appear regularly on this easy listening compilation for the car.

What do the 1980s mean to you? Do you ever wish you could go back? I do, constantly. I have even mention to some friends, that I am willing to sell my soul to any willing bidder on eBay (only if the Devil is unavailable!) Finally, someone has written a song about the best year of the 1980s. How about this for the name of an punk rock album? Pure class. Just like when I discover that the ground floor reception number is (would you believe?) 1985...

Tuesday 17th August 2004

For the first time in several months, I do not know what to write in my blog. Trying to find a tangible reason for the lack of eagerness to write, I discover quite frankly that it is due to the simply fact that nothing interesting has been happening to be recently. The summer is drawing on, yet I have very little to report. Life is very monotonous at the moment, but I do not mind. The train comes down the line, I go to work, I come home. The destination is the weekend, yet before I know where I've been or where I am going, the train pulls up again to take me back on that journey, that is working week.

Time for a small confession. Over the past week and two days weeks, I have only caught the bus to the train station four times. Who is to blame for my reason spout of laziness? Well, I have to blame the radio. Forcing myself to listen to Clive Bull on LBC, late into the night means, I only drift into natural sleep around midnight. As a consequence, I find it extremely difficult to get up in time, to be ready for the 326 at 6.09am. Having said that, as the service is only into the bus station, I do cut a fine line to catch the first train to London, which leaves at 6.39am. Whether or not I make the train is a matter of luck? Maybe luck just has not been on my side in recent days, weeks or even months?

The Olympics started in Athens on Friday. I am not a big fan of the Games and I never have been to be quite honest. Nothing there really appeals to me and it should be a hundred percent amateur tournament, rather than having some professional events. The Olympic dream has died. A young athlete should see the Games as the highlight of a career, and the moment to bridge the gap from being an amateur, and then becoming a professional. Is my judgment unrealistic? Let Diamond Geezer proudly Let The Games Begin. To something slightly more important that started at the weekend also. Arsenal began the new Barclays Premiership season very much as they ended the last one. For a full match report and the latest news, please go and read, the one, the only, the incredible, Arse Blog. Make sure you let him know, I sent you! ;)

I think may have to add a disclaimer and a health warning to my blog. This does sound rather extreme, but some of my links can be highly hazardous to your health. Particularly, when you find a treasure, such a movie script and then waste away three hours reading it. We've all done it. I did the same when I discovered the original script for Back To The Future. What a wonderful way, to waste away three hours...

Friday 13th August 2004

The superhero theme continues. When something has a lot to live up to, it rarely provides the goods. This is a case in point, but we must be considerate in our criticism. The DareDevil is not a familiar hero to us in Europe, unless we are big comic book fans, which we are not. As a movie on it's own, I think it does stand up very well. It is just shame, that they cast Ben Affleck in the lead role. An accomplished actor in his own right, but not superhero quality. To play such a character, you need that special edge, that larger than life presence on the screen. Taking this aside, the film is enjoyable, even though portraying the good versus evil battle in a completely different light. You have to judge such a hero, on his own merits and not in comparisons to the heavy weights, such as Superman, Batman and Spiderman. DareDevil may be less well known, and even less popular but he still is a great superhero. If the hero is only as good as his villain, then this falls over. The ending is also confusion, surely the inner conflict that our central character feels, should be resolved and for him to be able to move on and do his duty. As this question remains, how can we this be a superhero with a purpose? Revenge, can only take you so far, just ask Batman. My favourite movie in this genre? There can be no contest (and I strongly believe there never will be). Superman II has everything. Like I said before, there is nothing greater than the birth of the hero, than when the hero returns. Everything is in this one movie. Adversaries that take on the Man of Steel and you think, can he cope, will he win? The hero unmasked, and of course some great comical moments. Thanks to Superman Cinema I have been able to view the 1979 script for the movie. Scroll down to page 141 and read the scene in the bar. (You will know what I mean, when you read it!) The final words of Clark Kent should go down in movie history, "I've been working out..." As he lifts up his arms, in the motion of lifting weights. ;)

The following weekend, the Saturday night movie, was The Tuxedo. Released two years ago, this was slated by the movie reviews and seen bad move by both lead actors. When it comes to Jackie Chan movies, you have to take a big step back. They are not to be taken too seriously. This is more entertainment, with the almost slapstick blend of comedy and fight scenes. He is getting hold, but he can still put up quite a show. Watching his movies now, you can see, that he is much slower, for time waits for no man. The movie was funny, if at times completely unbelievable, but this is what comes with the territory Jackie's English is getting better but he still hasn't made that movie in Hollywood to be taken seriously as an action star. Perhaps, Rush Hour 3, will prove his critics wrong. I am not a fan of horror movies, not even the sheepish teen horror movies. Give me comedy and action, any day. I had heard many things about The Ring but never got around to watching it. Until last weekend, when it premiered on Sky Movies. Shot in an eerie style, with constant grey glow around the images, it did play around with your mind and have you on the edge of your seat, filled with utter suspense. There was however, no true explanation of events at the end, and the story ends, in the very much the same vain that it began. Will you watch the video and live? The male lead in the movie, the over familiar looking Martin Henderson stars in the forthcoming Bollywood Brit flick, Bride & Prejudice.

How do you unwind on a Sunday evening? Knowing all too well, that another week lies like a ghostly reflection in the mirror, just a few hours away. Usually, I just relax by listening to some music and laying in bed. On Sunday, I was idly flipping around the channels on Sky. Completely by accident, I stumbled upon a movie and started watching. For a while, I thought it was the movie pilot for the television series, but the presence of Jack Black made me realise, I was watching something completely different. This was definitely more my cup of tea. Short for a movie, and starring some kids with well known parents, but let us not take anything away from anyone associated with this movie. Americans can stretch most situations to the point of excess but this is pure fantasy, yet we feel a strong bond with the characters for the predicament they find themselves in. Particularly with so many cameos, including one by our dear ghost buster. What added to the experience, was the fantastic soundtrack which goes hand in hand with the events which play out during the course of this emotional roller coaster right for the potential college student. I cannot recommend this movie enough, you will enjoy it, I can guarantee that! :)

So, we come to the latest movie, which I saw on Wednesday evening. i,Robot is one of those films, you enjoy while you watch. But later on, you think to yourself, did it truly meet my expectations? Managing expectations for movies is hard, much is the case for sequels (or prequels) but for a blockbuster, they are unendurably. Will Smith saves the world (yet again) but in this movie, there is an edge about him, a gritty realism, that was missing from his previous movies. I saw him in Ali three years ago, and he had made leaps and bounds as an actor, particularly when you consider he started off in the family comedy series, The Fresh Prince of Bel Air back in 1990. The movie, with it's tainted vision of the future, is fantastic. The direction is stunning, with clever moments through the picture, posing some interesting ethical questions. Can we ever let technology become such an integral part of our lives that it could one day, take over? I am not so sure, there are times when the good old fashioned way just gets the job done! :) Watch out for the major product placement from a European company!

Tuesday 10th August 2004

This morning felt more like dreary September, than the early August. Yet, I battled through the cold rain to get to the my bus stop and get to work on time. There was little disruption to the Chiltern Railways network but colleagues informed me of the difficulties on other parts of the National Rail network. I thought today was going to be, one of those days. In the end, it was never as bad as I had imagined. The day passed off with no incident, well the working day at least. As I headed home, the sun was shining and there was an unfamiliar optimism in the air. Everything is cool again. Even if that is also reference to finding a seat on the air conditioned Chiltern Turbo, for the journey home. Home is a step closer, when you pull up at High Wycombe station. Not quite Grand Central but it is my journey to work ends and begins.

People often ask me about my television viewing habits. There are strictly only three things I watch on television, football, some news and Eastenders. The soap is on the rare occasion mention on this blog and I do at times, try to comment on some of the things going on. (Most notably, 1st March, last year.) You may recall a recent comic story line, of an outstanding video rental fine. There are some moments in the show, which have me in stitches. This was a case in point, when newly appointed Billy Mitchell decided to check the outstanding rentals and total up some fines. Den Watts rented Porky's 2: The Next Day in February 1988. (A film which was already 5 years old, at the time of rental). Billy came up with a unbelievable fine of £9,000. This equates to just over a £10 a week for the VHS tape. Curious, I e-mailed Blockbuster for some clarity on the terms of their fine system.

No time, in this current entry, but I will quickly briefly mention that I saw The Ring on Saturday night, followed by the movie, Orange County late on Sunday evening. Reviews to be added shortly, including my views on two other films, also recently screened on Sky. Should be catching, iRobot at the cinema tomorrow evening. Still hoping to catch Thunderbirds before they go!

Sunday 8th August 2004

On the late shift at work this week, I decided to make the most of my free time in the mornings. A sensible person would have much better use of this time available to them, and spent it in bed. This was not something I wanted to do. Not with one of the world's most picturesque cities to go and explore. I would be foolish to waste the summer, working and not taking in the many sight seeing opportunities around me. There was my brief. To get into Central London by 8am and then go and explore, take photographs and ultimately to find inspiration. Inspiration for my blog, to feel, to understand, to be moved.

Monday morning, I headed for Piccadilly Circus. Hoping to capture the mood of the city after the weekend, and with the heavy working week minutes from being truly upon us. Little did I know that somebody else would be recorded, famous places down the street where I work. How was I to know this was to be his first calling point. I walked down the road, to Leicester Square, to see a busy clear up operation coming to an end. Delivery vans were making the first calls of the morning, with a general relaxed and calming overtone, which I was struggling to understand. As I crossed the square, there were a few early commuters scurrying towards work, but apart from them, there was nobody around. A few people grabbing their first dosage of caffeine of the morning, so I decided to do the same. Although several more reasonable options were available to me, I again had an urge for Starbucks. I headed up towards Tottenham Court Road and then passed Goodge Street tube station. There was a small cosy branch, which invited me in. I had my mug of tea, then headed to the underground station. What to do? I wanted to take in the views from the river. I was considering at first to go to London Bridge, but headed a few stops further down the Jubilee Line to Canada Water. These new tube stations lookso futuristic and break from the mould of claustrophobic Victorian model. Time was running out, I had to get to work.

Tuesday, was the day, which I had planned very differently. In the end, as I started at 9am, I could not really make anything out of an odd hour. So I just headed to work, early instead. Not to know, home sweet home would not be a prospect for 7pm, as it should have been.

Wednesday, I headed to Embankment. This is the station at which I change to catch the Circle or District Lines. Just outside the station is the Golden Jubilee Bridge. Walking across to the South Bank, you can catch some nice glimpses of the London landscape. Sitting down on a bench, I took in the beautiful sunny morning. As the rest of the rat race, dashed to work, before me.

Just behind the bridge you can see the Palace of Westminster before which stands the British Airways London Eye. I headed in that direction, east towards Westminster Bridge, camera snapping as much I could.

Crossing over towards Westminster tube station, I took a final few pictures of the observation wheel, before heading into work. It was coming up towards 10am, and I had no desire to arrive late.

I had made the decision on Monday that I wanted to come down to the Docklands and more specifically Canary Wharf to take some photographs. Would have done this on Monday, but by lounging around the West End, and drinking my tea, as if I was on some kind of holiday, meant I did not have the luxury of time.

Did you go to the Millennium Dome? I did not. Even though there was talk in 1999, within my circle of friends of going down when it opened that December. Little happened on that front, talk quickly died down, as it did with us going to watch England play at Wembley. :( I wish I had gone to it, at least then I could have given my true opinion, rather than just one based on thirdly party information. A few years ago, my friends did talk about going there for a big clubbing event on New Years Eve. I am not sure if it actually did take place, due to security issues, but I remember back at University someone mentioning it, so perhaps it did. From Canary Wharf, you can make out the Dome in the distance. Walking around, I could see there was a high security presence across this business district. All cars were being stopped and searched, with only those with valid passes being allowed through in the underground car parks and offices. Something suddenly crossed my mind. Here I was, an Asian guy taking photographs of London's biggest landmarks at a stupid time in the morning, when in reality I should really be somewhere else. None of the security guards stopped to question me, or find out why I was taking photographs. I was just regarded as some tourist, taking the offbeat track. Great to see, so much money being pumped back into the development of Canary Wharf. Hopefully it will grow to be a place, I can enjoy to come and visit, when all the building work has finally finished.

For a split second, I thought I was in America. With these towering skyscrapers all around me, and small intersections in the built up area. Slowly I came out of my daydream, looking at my watch, it was coming up to 9.30am, I had to be on my way.

I was going to say that it was that man again, but he is still very much just a boy, help Arsenal clinch the Community Shield earlier this afternoon. Picking up just where he left off last season, glad to see he is knocking on the door and proving a great option for the left of midfield. Expect a fine review and the latest on the Vieria situation from Arse Blog. Overall, I was impressed with Pennant, who obviously has learned many things from his season loan at Leeds. Another player I enjoyed watching was the young, Fabregas. He was quick, breaking up Manchester's attacks and then quickly switching the play with great vision and killer passes. Can you believe he is only 17? Bring on Everton!

Friday 6th August 2004

A break from the norm. Rather than darting from work back to Marylebone, I took the civilized approach. Only because I was traveling on the tube with a colleague. We headed onto the main concourse at Marylebone, with our eyes peeled to the departure board. Lady luck was shining for one of us. The train on platform two was heading in the direction of home, but would not get me there. Terminating at Gerrards Cross (two stops short from my beloved home town!). This would come to haunt me later, little did I know it then. So I watched, as my colleague sped towards the barriers and headed onto his train. I had a short wait on my hands, around ten minutes, so I thought. The 17:45 service, usually starts boarding around 17:35. The clock ticked on, the station got busy. Busier than usual. Something was wrong, but I thought nothing of it. I would be on my train soon, heading home and my mind drifted some 40 miles away, to the leafy suburbs of Buckinghamshire. The explosive sound of a bomb, echoed around the station. My dream was shattered. Instantly, we looked to the platforms, but this sound was closely followed by heavy rain being heard thundering down onto the roof. Looking outside, I saw passers-by, taken by surprise, completely drenched within seconds, without a chance to even get that umbrella out. An unfamiliar voice had been making announcements on the tannoy. I had grown accustomed to a firm male voice. Was this her first day? It seemed so. All services from Marylebone were suspended until further notice. My heart sank, as I delved into my pockets to find any lose change. Of all the days, to leave my mobile at home, fate had dealt me, the most inconsiderate of cards. Is this someway of testing my ability in extreme situations? (This wouldn't be the first time, would it now?) Luckily, I had some coins to make that call home. My Dad was on his way, but I had no idea of how long the journey into Central London would take him, with the weather as it was. At an estimate, I was looking at my ride home making it to the station, within forty minutes or so. I was being optimistic beyond my wildest dreams. Little did I know of the chaos that was ensuing outside. Commuters kept drifted into the station, coming to the realisation that tonight's journey home, was going to take longer, a lot longer. Grabbing a drink and some chocolate bars, I took a seat and looked around me. It was tempting to record the moment. Hundreds of faces in a trance on the departure screens, which appeared to have the hypnotic power, putting them all in a longing trance. Deciding against making their extreme frustration public, I looked at the clock. Time to wait outside. The rain had stopped. Some trains had started to leave, but none stopping to my desired destination. Outside, there was rush for the Hackney Carriage. Bumper trade for them this evening. I waited. I waited. The rain resumed. Rummaging deep into my bag, I picked out my travel umbrella. The first time, the need had come for me to use it. I continued to wait. Standing opposite the entrance to The Landmark, I watched the chauffeur driven Mercedes and BMW's, drop off and pick up guests. A silver Mercedes S-Class was parked out in front of me. The chauffeur was making the most of the situation, he was reading a newspaper. Forty minutes had past, it was pushing 7pm now. Standing a few yards from this luxury saloon, I noticed the window effortlessly come down, and the driver pop his head out. Expected to be told to move away from the car, I got ready to make my way back into the station. Instead, a I was greeted with a smile. "You've been waiting out there for ages, do you want to give someone a call. It's hell out there," the stranger said, passing, me his Nokia 6210i. Surprised and taken aback by the kindness of this man, I mistyped my Dad's mobile number the first time. They were in Greenford. "Your joking(!)" exclaimed the good samaritan as I returned him his mobile phone, explaining the little progress my ride home had made. I headed back into the station, realising that I needed to eat now, I would not be getting home for a good few hours. I headed to Burger King as it was the only place not busy and serving food. I couldn't handle a full meal, so just had a burger. Then I sat down for a few minutes. The waiting continued. The clock continued to tick away the seconds. I looked again at the departure board, a few services were leaving but most had been cancelled. It had gone past 19.35, I was missing Eastenders. Thankfully I would be able to catch the late night repeat on BBC Three. The frustration of waiting inside the station was getting to me so, I headed outside again. Waiting for a brief gap in the rain shower, I headed towards the taxi rank again. It was busier than before with at least twelve people waiting to catch a cab. I found a spot, where I could down both ends of the road, and clearly see vehicles coming towards me. How much longer would I have to wait? It was ten, minutes before 8pm, my Dad pulled up outside the station entrance. Three hours ago, I had left the office. My journey home began. An hour, and I thought I would be home. Dream on. I just did not realise the effect a little storm, with a few hours of rain would have on our transport system. Trying several routes, but never sticking to any road clogged up with traffic, we headed in and around North West London, from Kilburn, Cricklewood, Wembley and then Ealing, before joining onto the A40, just before Uxbridge. I got home at 11pm. It had been a long hard day at the office, but a much harder night on road and rail.

In the continued shameless marketing of this website, I have joined the Brit Blog directory. Of course, if you enjoy reading my blog, feel free to link to me but always drop me an e-mail. The barefaced exploitation will persist, be rest assured.

The British Bloggers Directory.

Although now, I do not listen to much commericial radio, apart from the odd time, I find myself in a car. I do listen to Clive Bull. This discovery occurred last summer, at the time of Doctor Kelly's suicide. The FM frequency, 97.3, used to broadcast, News Direct but switched with the sister MW station, LBC. Renamed to LBC News and broadcasting on 1152AM. Enjoy listening to Clive, in the evenings. His conversational and comic style come across very well on the show, when he discusses various topical subjects. I also like his sense of humour and his way of turning a caller against him. You may have heard of the recent trend of ASBO's. Well a caller was discussing this subject and wanted one such order to be taken out against, Tony Blair. Clive's response was to say, "Yeah, starting a war, that is blooming anti-social". You too can catch Clive every weekday evening from 10pm only on LBC.

Sunday 1st August 2004

So August is upon us. A fresh start. A special month. Uniquely slotted in between July and my favourite time of year, September. The football season re-starts. The kids are on holiday. Many are away on holiday. The silly season, as often referred to by the tabloid press.

Are you a gamer? More importantly, are you a good gamer? I took my XBox console out of retirement last Sunday. It had been almost seven months since I last played on the video game console from Microsoft. I am not a gamer. Not even a mediocre gamer. Never have been. Although I have played various games in my life, I never been very good at them. There was a phase in the mid to late 90s, when I would purchase every copy of FIFA. Before that phase, I was heavily into football management, and worshipped Championship Manager. There was also the 'shoot 'em up' era, when I played games such as Wolfenstein 3D (what a classic!), Rise of the Triad, Doom and Quake. The only way I could possibly make progress in these games, was to obtain the cheats from the web and then blast my way through all the levels. Is this some sort of genetic disorder? A player, unable to play the game without the aid of the codes. Back in the second year at University, in the rest bite before lectures, we would play Mario Kart on my friend's N64. We hand four controllers, so we were able to play group games. Who would be last? Yes, you've guessed it. I think the most significant moment, was when I was third for the final two laps of the circuit, only to be overtaken a few hundred metres before the finish line. Happy memories for some. A humiliating time for me. Back to the present. The main reason I opened up my boxed XBox was to play GTA III and it's successor, GTA Vice City. Not exactly the titles to be discussing in light of recent tragic events. However, I loaded up my saved game, but completely disorientated by the setting, I had no idea exactly how far I had got. (Don't worry, I was not very far in the game at all, even after over tens hours of play!) I headed outside into the street from the hotel (or is it motel?) and jumped into a taxi (it was the first vehicle I could physically stop and hijack) Then toggled on the Taxi Mission. I completed one pickup and drop off successfully, before getting bored and switching off the console. Pathetic. The XBox you will be happy to know is boxed again, and will be reopened for another 20 minutes of play in another seven months time.

My website is 4 today. Of those four years, nearly two have been recorded in my blog. I was looking back, reading my first entry from August last year, to jog my memory on what I was doing, feeling and thinking some 12 months ago. Then I was enjoying a lazy, empty summer. Now, what is different? Just the fact that I am working, so the week is not as empty, but the rest of the time, much the same. Sleep, eat, blog a little and more sleep.

Arsenal are in friendly action this afternoon, as they take part in the Sony Amsterdam Tournament. The game on Friday against River Plate, was very much a non-event. With Jose Antonio Reyes, showing glimpses of the magic, he showed towards the end of the last season. The Gunners play the hosts, Ajax on Sunday and I hope Wenger fields a more experienced team for this match. As always, for the latest news and views on The Invincible Champions (doesn't that sound great!?) check out ArseBlog.

I was in central London on Sunday last week. I was hoping to blog about this earlier, but just never got around to it. I met up with my friend, Tam from Warwick. He is now, off on a tour of Europe, with three of his University friends, this was an opportunity for us to meet up before he headed across over to the continent. We were to meet up in Trafalgar Square, but it was brimming with tourists. Then I noticed that a Sikh parade was about to pass through and waited to witness the event. That is the beauty of our capital. There is always something going on, no matter the time of day or year. Unfortunately, I did not bring my digital camera. Thankfully, Tam did, so he took some snaps.

Can you switch off your mobile? I found it one of the easiest things to do. No problems. I enjoy being able to disconnect myself from the rest of the world. Some of my friends however could never do such a thing. They have a major complex about it. One keeps his mobile on, 24 hours a day. Who exactly is going to call you up at 3am on a Wednesday morning? Also became aware of another hidden complexity when it comes to mobile phones. This did not happen until I got to University. The fear of the 'withheld number'. One of my previous housemates, refused to answer the phone if the number was not shown on his mobile screen. What is wrong with you people? Please! Many companies operate a strict policy, to not give out phone numbers so no number is displayed when they call. I never hesitate to answer the phone, regardless of the fact if I know the caller on not.

Last night, listening to the radio, as you do. I was switching around the various London based radio stations. I heard the chorus ofa song. The song was familiar, although I could not quite put my finger on it. However, the vocals were so distinctive. Instantly recognizing the artist, for her signature style and range. They don't let any old person sing the title for a James Bond film. You know that. Listening to the song, as it trailed off, I thought for a long while. Yes, this was the answer I was looking for. "Nothing Stays The Same..." I know that now, or am slowly coming to realise the significance of those four words. As much I wish things were the same as they were several years ago, this will never be the case. So, we have found the soundtrack for the coming week. A difficult week, I know that already. What exactly the week holds, I do not know for sure. Plenty of time to prepare. I know that certain things will just be coming around again...

And I Believe In Love
But What Else Can I Do
I'm So In Love With You

I Know Nothing Stays The Same
But If You're Willing To Play The Game
It's Coming Around Again


Friday 30th July 2004

My shift patterns have been erratic to say the least this week. Although home time had been set to 4pm, for four days, I only actually left the office at that time on Tuesday afternoon. Tuesday turn out to be, when I had a brush with royalty. Although, my lunch slot is midday, it was a bit later when I got a chance to escape my desk. My firm provides a fantastic subsidised restaurant on the first floor, offering an array of culinary delights. It is the summer, and I would rather make more suitable use of my lunch hour. (The hour is an overstatement, on average my lunch break lasts some 26 minutes and rarely over 40.) I would be foolish not to make the most of the opportunity that the man upstairs, has so firmly placed in my hands. I am in one of the greatest cities in the world, and that is no over exaggeration. So I head across to the courtyard, behind St. Paul's. Aptly named, "KnightRider Court". Having been the victim of daylight robbery at the local, Pret a Manger, Benjys or on the odd occasion, Simply Food, from Marks and Spencer. Grabbing a sandwich and a drink, I try to observe the many people I see. Between the hordes of Japanese, American and other European tourists (whom, are insignificant, so therefore, their countries will not get listed) there are joggers. Usually in groups of two or three. Sweating their way across the capital, having crossed, the Millennium Bridge. Then of course, there are the suits, which I would have to class myself with. Very much in a similar position, rushing through a light snack, before heading off back to the office. Most of them are with colleagues or friends and tend to be talking about work. Not the most fascinating way to spend your one break away from the mill, for the day. Up until now, my lunch time observations have been nothing to write home about. (Or should that be, blog home about?) Apart from taking a digital photograph for a tourist a few weeks ago, nothing exciting, or should that me newsworthy has ever happened. Until now. I looked at my watch, time was clicking away. I had to make my way back to the office, so I hurriedly finished my rubbish and headed back. Thinking nothing of it, I headed back, past St. Paul's. Something was different. Everything had stopped. The pedestrians, and the traffic. I was heading down Ludgate Hill, with the landmark cathedral at my back. A police motorcyclist popped up, and stopped the traffic in both directions. Someone was on their way. Someone important. My first thoughts drifted to Downing Street but do they also say, what they do? Maybe, but that is not a question for us now. I was proved wrong, as the motorcade came into view, turning the corner on Maria Lane, onto Ludgate Hill. Then the state limousine came into view. My second guess had been proved right, but who has time for second chances? The cars fleeted past with several police motorbikes, shielding our Monarch. Although Her Royal Highness, appeared somewhat withdrawn from the whole experience. The notion that 'her people' had stopped to catch a fleeting glimpse of their Queen. I noticed the hint of a smile, then His Royal Highness, Prince Philip, raise a hand to acknowledge the crowds. With the busy London streets brought to a standstill, the motorcade, made swift process down Ludgate Hill, heading westward. They were gone. Awakening from my daydream, reality slowly crept on me, as it did the many people whom had stopped along side me. Back to work, I heard a voice in the crowd firmly say. I don't think he had intended for his comment to have such a large audience. I briskly headed back to the office, trying my best to meander through the tourists, congratulating themselves on finding such a prime spot for some royal photograph. It is times like this, I realise how important it is to carry my digital camera with me as often as possible. A camera phone, just would not have captured the beauty of the moment. Maybe this was a moment, far beyond anything Kodak could capture.

As long as I can remember, I have had a fleeting love affair with pop music. Some may say that is it the most bland and insignificant music. It is true to say that the music industry has become very segregated in the past four years or so. Each genre, distinct with it's style, sound and even fashion accessories. As much I enjoy listening to a range of music, I always come back to pop. But not just any old pop. I like Pure Pop. What exactly is 'Pure Pop'? It is difficult to describe and explain, but when you hear an example, you just know. Let me try my best to explain, what in my personal and very humble opinion institutes, "pure pop". The vocal is very important, this must be strong, have a good range and ultimately be able to carry the song alone. Then come lyrics, these have to be powerful, yet still hold some comfort. The aim is to get the balance in favour for performance, rather than impact. Then the musical arrangement. This is the killer ingredient and ultimately makes the difference between a song breaching the pure perfection barrier. A song can have great lyrics, with a great singer, but if the final product is far from polished, the overall standard is greatly reduced. Unfortunately, there have been only a few pioneers of such creative music manufacturer in this country. Although the Americans, do have their fair share of great producers, for them, the artist sells the song, rather than the other way round (which I feel is more so the case, this side of the pond). Stock, Aitken & Waterman have a god-like status within the UK music industry. I disagree, that pure pop is actually, bubblegum pop. Genie In The Bottle, the debut single by Christina Aguilera from 1999 is what I can use as the an example. It has everything that I have mentioned above and much much more. If you are an regular reader of Pop Justice music blog, you will note that they are continually pushing for the return of this type of music to our airwaves and television screens. The latest production from Pete, is the quartet, aptly named, Pop! The name does sound corny, as do some of the lyrics of their songs, but the polished final product is amazing. The songs do stand up very well on themselves, great radio friendly material. So watch out for Glenn, Hannah, Jade and Jamie. Will they finally take Pure Pop to the credible place it belongs?

I had so much on mind to blog about, during the course of my train journey home this evening. A rare air conditioned Chiltern Turbo, brought me in from Marylebone to Wycombe. This gave me the ideal chance to put the week into place and begin formulating plans for the weekend. There is so much I want to do, but not sure if I will have the opportunity to get everything completed, by the time Sunday evening comes around. There is also, so much more to blog about. For the time being, I will just have to leave you with the two above after thoughts from my week. A quick question? What gets you in the mood for the weekend? What small event or message or weekly ritual sends you the clear message, "it's the weekend!". For me, it is always music. While Javine's performance on Top Of The Pops was fantastic, choreographed succinctly with the tempo of the music, it did not have the desired affect. Instead it was left to those Irish rockers, Ash to bring down the house, with 'Burn Baby Burn'.

You're all I have in this teenage twilight
Your golden hair and pale blue eyes
But through all the days and the sleepless nights
We have never been satisfied

Tumbling like the leaves
Yeah we are spiraling on the breeze
Almost to the point of no return
Everything will burn,
baby,
burn

Tuesday 27th July 2004

Planning and management is important. Even for some of the straightforward of tasks, you would think that a small degree of thought would go a long way. In my personal experience, this is never the case. Although I forever, dream of that Hannibal moment. I am forever waiting for the moment to say, "I love it when a plan comes together". Everything always appears painless in theory but becomes much more complicated in practice. It is also strange how the ideas you have can, may initially sound fantastic, refreshing and fully workable. Then, a few hours later, they appear completely stupid. Am I the only person to notice this pattern? Or shall I stop making such insignificant observations?

Passing comments, which appear quite harmless and unworthy at the time they are made. However, they stick with you for days, even weeks on end. Does this happen to you? It has happened to me, as long as I can remember. A comment is made, in a situation which appears quite friendly and trusting. Often accused of looking far too deep into things (and I am not alone, this one comment can later surface, and be played on constant repeat in my head. Usually on the way home. A case in point, is yesterday afternoon. A colleague made the idle comment, "let someone walk over you once, they will be doing it for the rest of your life...". Taking this out of context means, it lacks any specific meaning. Not wishing to explain, in any detail the circumstances surrounding this conclusion, I shall say only a few words. Yes, the advice was dispelled to me. Something said in jest, which I frankly took as a joke, was misinterpreted by others as a possible example of verbal abuse. I rewinded the moment and played it back, as I drifted off to sleep on the train home. Was I really allowing myself to be used in such a way? I think not. But the comment had sprung out from somewhere and there was a need to evaluate, no only the situation, but my own policy, should such an occasion present itself again. My conclusion? We only let people walk all over us, if they know they can get away with it. If they are aware that all everyone has a limit and that eventually, giving an inch and taking a mile. You will run out of road. The moral of the story is of course, to never let anyone use you as a doormat. I agree, but I think sometimes, we need to know our place. There are times, when being used as a doormat, is acceptable, and at other times, when people begin taking your good human nature, for a ride. When you really need to start considering who are your true friends and enemies.

What is the true power of MP3? No, I am not talking about the taking on the capitalist greed of the major record labels. I am not even talking about the ability to share your music collection with a great number of people. I am talking about being exposed to new genres of music. New artists and sounds, which without the digital music format, you would never have heard. I commented on this topic, in detail in my entry from April 2003. Greg, a colleague, who also works on the support desk, started work a week before I did. I pointed him the direction of my website, and he eagerly download my mp3 database. After converted it to a 'print friendly format', he scanned the listing. Far down the list, he came across a collection of three songs by an American band, exclaiming that they were a 'great band'. I agreed. To my surprise, he commented on how, I was the first person in the UK to share his appreciation for the Gainesville, Florida group. My reply, was to explain, what I have already explained to my regular readers. Sister Hazel have their own very distinct and unique signature sound. Instantly recognizable as, from any of their tracks, no matter how obscure, that this is 'that' group. Very few bands ever achieve such unique radio friendly status, Duran Duran comes to mind as having successfully achieved the uphill task. Looking on his iPod, he showed me the few albums he had, and there was a pause. I had to ask for them on CD. Consider it done. It was. I now have a full CD, with an assortment of albums, including a live selection of tracks. Also, taking on Greg's recommendation, he included, material from Matchbox 20. A band, I was sure to like, if I liked the type of music that Sister Hazel produced. Although I have not listened to many of the tracks, I know that they are a band, I will enjoy listening to. Right, now where is that old, portable CD player?

I have not seen Thunderbirds, yet! I was hoping to catch it on Sunday evening, but unfortunately the early evening showing was booked. I will try and catch it this coming weekend. A confession if I may. I am looking forward to more, taking a step back into my childhood more than anything else, when I step into the dark theatre screen. Twelve again, for two hours! Yes please! But reality sets in and my dream world comes tumbling down. I am not on summer holiday and I have work to go to in the morning. Next time, next time the dream will last forever. - taking a giant leap back into my childhood. Do I have to leave the cinema? For the fantasy that is born there, shall live with me forever, but the reality that arrives, the second you walk out of the cinema screen. Do we ever, escape our childhood? I don't think so, but then there must come a point when our childhood becomes less important. I remember, during my placement, a colleague, said to me that they no longer remember anything from their school days or anything beyond their early twenties. "All that doesn't matter, anymore, Andrew", I was sturdily told. But if that is the case, then what actually matters?

It is getting late, I really want to get a good nights sleep. The next entry will include my obsession, with Pure Pop! New music from Twen2y4Se7en and a Royal chance meeting. I wish I could include these topics now, but I just do not have the time, so you will have to wait for my next installment, later in the week.

Friday 23rd July 2004

Can you predict the future? I cannot and make no false claims to be able to do so. Let us make that small fact, quite clear from the offset. (It is pure coincidence, that my recent discussion on instant messenger, appears again, in the context of blogging on Diamond Geezer.) However, I can always take an educated stab in the dark, to picture together how small pieces of tomorrow's jigsaw will appear. How they all fall together, that is anyone's guess. We can all be forgiven for sometimes, taking a step into the dark side. For playing Devil's advocate and even talking of the devil. On my many bus journeys home, my mind drifts from the present and even future and skips dreamily into my past. A friend. A thought popped into my mind. When would I see her again? It was not the case that she was one of my close friend's at primary school. Nevertheless, someone I knew, and would always speak to. Why had I thought of her at this moment time. An idle Tuesday evening, on the 326 bus. My mind was not playing tricks on me. It was warning me. A premonition, if you may. When was the last time I saw Elaine? It was in 1999, on the 329 bus from college to home. The final stop in Marlow before the diesel engine sputters the dated chassis up the hill Wycombe. On Thursday evening, I was boarding my usual 17:45 train home and I entered the carriage as normal, taking a window seat, need the middle of the coach. As I took of my jacket, with my body struggling to adjust to the swealtering heat and humidity. I looked up to see, beyond the visions of my own dreams, Elaine board the train. Now, I am not one to believe in such things occurring. Not like this. Destiny is all conquering and we are mere mortals, in the way of such a menancing force. To think a thought one day, then for the next day, that person, to be brought to you. In such a way. It cannot be true. What are the chance? This particular train is one of the busiest and the chances of two old school friends picking exactly the same section of the same coach is unbelievable. I was going to let the moment pass. Pass up the opportunity to speak to my old friend. Ten years had passed by. Ten long years, since we had left Lansdowne County Middle School. Such are the mysteries of fate that they are a rule to themselves. It was exactly to the day, since we had broken up for our last summer holidays. September 1994, bought with it, the horror of the big school. The last school. The secondary school. I knew if I did not, at least say hello, I would forever regret this golden opportunity. Would I ever get this chance again? No, such opportunities arrive once in a lifetime. It was not until the end of the forty minute train journey, that I was finally able to gather my thoughts, and recover from the shock to surprise Elaine as she disembarked the train. I had ten minutes. I had to use them wising. After explaining what I was doing now, I attempted to throw the names of some old classmates into the hat. To little effect. Names remain faceless, without a picture or a memory. Will we be back in touch soon? I will try, for the moment came to past quicker than I had ever imagined. Did she release the great that had just come to pass? I doubt it, for it was all a case of coincidence. For me, it was much more than that. Strangers on the train. Leave, as they boarded, knowing that little bit less, but feeling that much bit more.

As you may be aware, I have long been campaigning for a blog. Well not any old blog. The blog. The blog that should co-exist with mine. If my blog was the Sun, then this blog would be the Moon. Nobody knows how it happened. There are some strange theories. But then, although I am not talking about the big bang. But this subconscious decision has completely changed my internet experience. The decision to start blogging. Sibtain started, in March 2003, the same time at which I finally began labeling my online journal, as a blog. The tube is full of advertising, as you will be aware. There is however one small bill board that caught my eye, several weeks ago. Any Questions Answered, does exactly what it claims. No fancy buzz words here, no new shiny technology. No gimmicks (or is it a gimmick in itself?) Want an answer to a question? Text in to their special number and an answer will be provided. Anything can be asked, from "Who will win the Coca Cola Championship, next season?" Do more embarrassing questions, when your mother or other domestic help is unavailable, "How do I get chewing gum off my Levi 501s?". I was tempted to text in, "When will Sippy's blog be up?" Should I really waste £1 (plus my standard text rate) on such a silly question. When I know the answer already? The answer is simple. When Sippy gets time. After several weeks away, the out-dated coming soon page has reappeared at the above domain. When will we see a finished product?

Jim Branning, has been literally stealing the show on Eastenders in recent weeks. If you know one thing about me, is that of all the things I cannot miss on television, the BBC soap opera, is that show. Anyway, the classic line from Thursday's installment, "Hello, Patrick Truman's bachelor residence!". Maybe I am the only person who found that hilarious at the time (well twice, I watched it again on BBC Three later that same evening. A line from last week included Jim calling Ian, "Ironside". :)

After waiting over seven months, I only got a small taste of a music video. In December, I uncovered the identity of the track which had been playing on the BBC trails of the Asian Network. Dr. Zeus featuring Master Rakesh - Kanga, was the name of the track. B4U Music played a medley of songs from the album, 'Under Da Influence', including a brief snip of the aforementioned video. Shame, after such a long wait, I was quite disappointed. I suppose, when you have a dance floor filler in such vain, you expect much more money to be thrown at it. Never mind. It was never going to be enough, was it?

Tuesday 20th July 2004

Which is your favourite instant messenger? I started off with ICQ in the late 90s, building up a contact list of two hundred people, around the world. Then, I gave Yahoo! Messenger a go. Early versions were rather basic and slow, but it slowly improved. Then in 1999, when I created my Hotmail account, I discovered, MSN Messenger and I was converted forever. Originally with the Hotmail account, andrewtegala@hotmail.com, I forgot my password and rarely used the account. It was one idle Friday afternoon, while in college, I setup a new address. Most of the time I am online, MSN is running. Even at work, I have it on in the background. On Monday, I was answering phones most of the morning, but then had to leave my desk for an urgent install. Minutes later, I remembered that I had left my PC unlocked and MSN clearly running. What if someone, in their lunch hour had decided to have a quick chat. I returned to my desk, to find an instant message conversation window, open. It was Sippy. He had decided to say, "Hi", with a few minutes spare on his lunch break. I did not even have the opportunity to give me a response, I had to rush on. I had loads of jobs on, and my lunch hour had slipped away, into 2pm. Not to worry. Plenty of the week remaining for these knots of trouble to untie themselves. My friend, Nav recommended the program, MSN Messenger Plus. Downloading it in November 2003, I have never looked back, until now. When you discover how much you cannot operate without the utility. Mainly because people have this unfounded desire to give label themselves with a catchphrase or tag line, because their real name is so boring. I, of course, would never fall to such low standards! ;)

My views on cinema, are quite well know and well published on this blog. I never obtain movies from anything but legal means. Watching a film at the cinema, buying or renting the DVD or even catching a showing on Sky Movies is much better than going down, the download route. I describe myself, as the average 'joe' cinema goer (poor attempt at rhyming, I admit!) Catching only the major blockbusters at the big multiplexes, preferring to watch the majority of my films from the comfort of my own home. I like action, adventure, science fiction, comedy and even some more family orientated pictures. This was the second time I was going to the 'revamped' FilmWorks. The Matrix sequel, had been my first time there in April 2003. If first impressions are everything, then this was a non-starter. The tickets at the UCI 6 screen complex, and cinemas in general have gone through a slow evolution. First was the dot matrix, a overthrow from the 1980s, printed out on paper, (which still had the perforated edges for the printer). Then the small thin card squares, with the even deep set printing. Now? Now, a pathetic excuse for paper, which is more closely described as tracing paper you used to use in primary school, with tickets measuring 6cm by 4cm. What has the world come to? Glad I do not make it a regular habit to go the UCI brand of cinema. Vue shall always have my future business.

There is nothing greater than the birth of a hero, than his return. I need to clarify this. I strongly believe no hero is ever born. They are made. Built by the environment and the potential nemesis that lies in wait. I love heroes. Reluctant heroes are the best for the silver screen. We share with them their desire to balance a normal life, yet always depend upon them to save the day, and come to our rescue. (We don't want much, do we?!) As much I have enjoyed the Superman movies and Christopher Reeve's portray of the Man of Steel. Something was missing. I like my heroes to have that human element, that vulnerability which is why heroes such as The Shadow and The Phantom appeal to me. Spiderman is in that very category. His gift is also his weakness. We could get into a deep discussion about heroes and villains, benevolent versus malevolent but I will leave that for another day. The movie is fantastic and I cannot recommend highly enough for you to go down your local multiplex to watch it. Action scenes play out like intimate ballet, the direction is yet again breathtaking and the vision of Sam Raimi to take Stan Lee's comic book creation to the big screen is unparalleled. Did you spot the creator's cameo? It was very brief, and if you weren't paying attention you would have missed it, in the blink of an eye. The great thing about a movie such as this is as you leave the cinema, to head home. You are overcome, by an warmth inside. This so called, 'feel good feeling', is letting you know. Yes, our heroes will always conquer the villains. Good will always triumph over evil, and maybe, just maybe the hero shall never have to question his existence, his place again. We begin, only now to learn that true meaning of Uncle Ben's solemn word's, "With great power, comes great responsibility". We cannot deny one, without the other.

Saturday 17th July 2004

Most mornings, as I munch on my Kellogg's Crunchy Nut Corn Flakes, I watch television. I tend to just watch music channels and look out for something interesting to listen to and wake me up. Usually, it the same select few videos being shown, at what is still deemed nightshift period for the channel operators. Flickering around as I do, I came to Magic and heard the opening few beats to a song, I started listening to a few months ago. My longing to see the video had come true. Not knowing what to expect, but the video was in the abrupt style of the artist, rather than meeting any desire of the movie, Pretty Woman from 1990. Funny how I only discovered the song, by a chance choice of my housemate, in April. The question though, is what gets you up in the morning?

Friday was a strange day for me. I had been expecting to work until 6pm, however, to aid a colleague, I swapped to the 9 to 5 slot. I do not have a problem working until 6pm, but on a Friday, I just have a great urge to get home, and get the weekend started. Heading home at an alien hour was a new experience. My tube trip back to Marylebone, has always been quite pleasant with just a moderate level of commuters. Yesterday evening was a different story, and I was crushed towards the back of the double doors. All the commotion, was due to a small band of Spanish school children. Funny how the moment they disembarked the train, some sort of normality was restored. Reaching the station concourse, in plenty of time to board my train home I was concerned to find my train delayed. Luckily it was only for ten minutes and I was making the penultimate part of my journey home at 5.55pm. How do you know you are late? When you get to the bus station to find that the evening bus service is running and you have to catch the 315 heading to Lane End instead of the usual 326.

The faces of the 326 are now becoming very familiar. Those faces, I know, will be changing every week, as my shifts change and I become more an integral part of the support team. The dream that was my cushy hours of 8am to 4pm, may have been lost forever. Not to worry, let us think through carefully. What is the trade off? Instead of having to awake at the crack of dawn, I leave home at a more reasonable time, have to suffer a slight increase in the passengers on my train into London. There is also the fact that Marylebone underground station is closed until 9.30am, so I have to walk across the road to Baker Street. Packed like sardines, is the only way to describe the level of commuter traffic at this time of the day, but the stress inducing journey is short lived for only two stops, before once again, normal service is resumed. Next week will be the big test. Depending on how I find my journey and also how I cope with returning home, so late in the evening, there is little getting in the way of me making the most of the my work day. As I am reminded by Mr. V every morning, this is one of the greatest capital's in the world.

On Tuesday, there was a scruffy looking gentleman in his mid thirties. He work ragged dirty clothes, giving the appearance he had been hard at work decorating earlier today. His mousy brown hair was short, almost a crew cut. Unpleasant. That was the word that came to mind when I saw him, waiting outside, the 326 at the station. In his hand, a 50cl glass bottle of brandy, half empty. Dare I use a dirty word, and describe this man as 'working class'? I shall, but his social standing is not the purpose of this posting. Three stops before my house, completely at random and with no real reason, he turned to look at the passengers sitting behind him on the train. His icy gaze was fixed on me, and our eyes met for a split second. He was three seats ahead of me, but it felt as if he was much closer than the physical distance. He asked, in a coarse voice, "What is it that YOU wear?". Somewhat bewildered, I was about to respond, "Haven't you seen a suit before?" While this instant response was clicking over in my mind and before I had a chance to speak, he added, "..saris...". I corrected his poor pronunciation. Then he continued his conversation with his friends, about the form of formal Asian dress. Turning his back to me, I drifted out of the conversation and out of his consciousness. Had I ever really been in the conversation? On reflection, no but a strange way to be spoken to and all in all, an unusual incident on a rather lacklustre bus journey.

Was hoping to go to see Spiderman 2 with another saturday night at the movies. It was not to be. Therefore I am going on Monday night, which although not of my own choosing, means I do get to see the blockbuster as close to the release in the UK as possible. I hope to give my humble opinion on the sequel, later next week.

God works in mysterious ways. Even my blog has noted some of the strange situations that have opened themselves up to me. Boarding the Bakerloo line train at Embankment, taking a the available free seat. A young Asian man sat next to me, appearing to be in his early twenties also. Reading a paper, he was given a letter by a friend sitting directly opposite. Although not wanting to be nosey, I could not help but look and see at least what was the contents of this document. I signed and looked up to the ceiling of the train. Why, had the powers that be, placed me on this train, at this time, to be sitting next to this person, on this day? Not wanting to wallow on this subject for to long, but why was I not also to receive such good news? For a split second, I jumped out of my body and was looking at my life, my achievements and ultimately where my life was going. Had I become the person, I had always dreamed I would be? Maybe not. The dream has not died. For that man, may not have achieved everything we had hoped, but look where he is now. Can you take that away from him? No, never. God help the soul who tries.

Primarily, my role is to answer the phones, but this does not mean I am chained to my desk for the course of the working day. Every so often, the opportunity arises, when I need to venture around the building, finding offices and computer equipment to repair. On one such occasion, I was in the office of a corporate partner, sorting out his laptop. While I was busy adjusting the settings on Windows 2000, a colleague walked in. They discussed at some length, a presentation they had planned for next week. I can only just begin to describe the feeling of being in the presence of such great men. I think we need to lose the stigma that all lawyers are money-driven scoundrels. Awe inspiring to hear some of the biggest and well known corporations on the planet to be mentioned. Names such as Sony Ericsson, Siemens and The Body Shop. Firms such as this and many others all have their legal dealings through the company I am working for. I have to date, been extremely robust in protecting the name and exact location of my place of work. As tempting as it is to mention them, and allow all my readers to know which of the City big law firms, they are, I am not. Not going to be so weak and give in. There is no need. My blog has always been honest. I want it to record the moment, the music, the emotion. Of course, the facts are important, but sometimes they can get in the way of what really matters.

Wednesday 14th July 2004

For some strange reason, I have had the urge to drink original Lucozade for the past few weeks. At a young age, the strange bright orange liquid was always seen as some magic potion. Maybe because I only ever remember my Dad buying it to take for our grandmother, when she was in hospital. I never regarded it as a everyday beverage, like Coca Cola. In the mid 90s, I realised after many years of naive ignorance, that it was actually a soft drink. From 1998, when Lucozade expanded their range to include additional flavours, I was hooked on blackcurrant and then orange. Orange, to this day has been my favourite. Yesterday it was a case of 'back to the classics', I purchased a can of the original stuff with my lunch and enjoyed the taste once again, while watching the casual parade of tourists walk by me. A year seven trip of school children, arrived and with them each a list of notes to be made. How I remember, those days. That was over ten years ago, since I was ten, turning eleven. Am I glad to be older (and wiser?) Of course, but there is something so forgiving about being that age and very much having the rest of your life to live for. These children, around thirty in all were making their way in between the groups of tourists. A group of Americans on a guided walk, stopping to admire the view of Sir Christopher Wren's greatest achievement. It was only a matter of time for the following scenario to unfold itself upon me. I was finishing my lunch on Tuesday last week, eagerly looking at my watch. My hour was almost up, and I wanted to get a chance to check my personal mail accounts. A lady of Mediterranean appearance, in her early thirties, approached me, digital camera clasped in hand. All she said was photograph and please. I understood. I took some photos. Not very good ones in my humble opinion, as only the bottom half of the cathedral was visible in the background. I was thanked for my time and I wished the tourist a good day. It was 12.43pm, I headed back to the office.

As a child of the 1980s, I am not a fan of any of the cultural icons from the 1970s. That was very much the era of my parents and older cousins. Very few of the shows appeal to me, apart from a few my Dad watch. Repeats on Granada Plus, which have in recent months, completed died out. I did not see the re-make movie, released earlier this year. Although I have mentioned of the leading actors on this site before. Hopefully I will get the chance to watch, Starsky & Hutch very soon. Will it bring on an urge for me to catch the television series? I don't think so. It is not like car manufacturers to miss out on any potential money making spin offs when a new movie, video game or any other major entertainment event comes around. Fiat are no exception. Forget the Ford Grand Torino and try on the Fiat Grand Puntino on for size!

There was so much I wanted to write in this entry, as I tried to make mental notes, on the train, tube, bus and casual walks over the past few days. I really need to keep a small note pad, to keep all this blog bubbles recorded. Hopefully, in my next entry, at the weekend a few of the missing pieces can be filled. Meanwhile, I will continue to try and observe, think, reflect and contemplate. It is getting late, and although I have the leisure of starting two hours later than usual at work tomorrow, the reality is, I still have to be up by 6am. No rest for the wicked, as the saying goes.

My sister has worked for hotels most of her adult life. She started off at our local Forte Hotel. This was soon taken over my Holiday Inn. She then moved to Crowne Plaza, with the opening of their new hotel in Marlow. She has worked there for nearly two years, working the unpleasantly early breakfast shift, from 5.30am until midday. She has come to serve many celebrities in her time. (Mainly of the B-class variety) but this week, she had the Portsmouth football team staying for some pre-season team building before the big kick off in August. On explaining with great enthusiasm, who she had served coffee to Harry Redknapp and Jim Smith, I asked her to get his autograph for me. Would she deliver, or had the opportunity gone for ever? Well just like Portsmouth team that defied the odds and lived to fight another day in the Premiership. My sister, with beaming smile handed me a bill, as soon as I returned home from work.

Saturday 10th July 2004

Been at working in my new job for three weeks now. My role has not changed so much, as I am being given a chance to help out with the help desk. Although I am no stranger to technical support, it is strange, when I am dealing with hundreds of members of staff. My telephone manner, is my no means perfect, but I do not mind talking to people on the phone. However, a shudder of nervousness over came me, with the prospect of answering calls and logging them on the help desk software. Other highlights of the week include installation of Blackberry devices. As fantastic as wireless comms are, they can be a pain to setup. Amazing technology, from the Canadian company, Research In Motion. We have covered this ground before, but I am not a big tea drinker. I usually drink on average two cups a day, usually to coincide with the start and end of the working day. However, this week I did not have my customary cup with my cereal in the morning. On Tuesday, I strolled into the entrance of the station, as my train pulled up. There was no chance I would be able to run over to platform three, within a minute. So I decided to get a cuppa. My mistake was I went for the cheap option. Never again, will I put myself through such torment. A regular coffee was only 50 pence, and with a queue of customers eagerly waiting, I had to rush. Disappointment is not the word I would like to use. As I sipped my hot drink, from a tacky polystyrene cup, walking down platform two, to the subway entrance, I reacted. This was officially the worse cup of tea I have ever drunk in my life. I did not really wanted to finish the cup, but my need to stay awake (for once) on the train journey into work was the only true motivation. Would I ever put myself through such torture again. No never. You do not realise how important that cup is at the beginning of your day. You are still very much sleepy, trying to get some bearings, straining your eyes to focus on that clock on the wall. I must confess that my progress on reading has been extremely poor. I do, always get my book out as soon as I embark the train home or to work. Whether or not I am reading as we pull into Marylebone or High Wycombe respectively is another matter. I aim to read around ten pages every journey with a daily target around of thirty pages. Sometimes by the time, we get to Gerrards Cross (only the second stop from my home station) I am struggling to keep my eyes open and my head is slowly drifting down into the book, to the bemusement of my fellow passengers. On Friday, again there was a need to have some tea to wake up my system. On this occasion I waited until I crossed over to platform three. Java the Hut is situated towards the exit of this platform and this was the first time I was making any purchase from this establishment. Once again, as I walked in to the small coffee house, I looked at the menu. An extensive array of choice, even for the tea. Was I really in the need for a herbal tea? No, so I ordered a regular tea. A great taste, which revived me as I waited for my train. The usual train had been delayed so I had to wait for 6.53am service. Just what the doctor ordered. I was fully awake, when I boarded the train, and read my Victorian novel, all the way into Marylebone. Success at last, but at what cost. £1, my dearest friend. That is the cost of such happiness in the morning.

With work taking up so much of my time during the week, my weekends have become as valuable as gold dust. I must try and make the most of them, rather than collapse into my bed and drift of to sleep for several hours. Contemplating this, I have been wondering where and how to focus my energies. I am not the most sporty person in the world. Perhaps I need to join a gym again, but this time stick to it? Considering, if I am interesting person, or rather a unique person. I am not at all. I do not have many personal pursuits which make me different from the next person. This does cause me some disappointment and time is indeed slipping away. There is so much I want to do. I want to travel and see many parts of the world. I want to learn new sports and make new friends. Right now? I feel quite a substandard individual. I recall reading somewhere, that one's blog is suppose to exacerbate my self-proclaimed uniqueness to the world. Does my blog do this? No, not at all, because I feel I am not as unique as some may want to believe. Personally, I am drawing the conclusion that this is very much a transition period in my life. Of course there are many things I want to do, many things I want to achieve. The time just is not right. Things need to fall into place. When they do, I will know. Opportunities will open themselves and so with them shall my chances of success.

Was hoping to was my car this afternoon. The day started off, clear and fine, even if there was a slight chill in the air. This did not prepare us for what was to the turn, the heavens were to take. While driving on the M40, the short distance to Slough, what appeared to be a slight drizzle turned into torrential down pour. Visibility dropped, with all the water spray, and the cars across all four lanes, slowed down to meet the changing road conditions. No chance on cleaning my car today. Maybe tomorrow, will bring with it, much better weather.

Nearly two months have passed since I returned to Wycombe. I have made little or no attempt to contact some of my dearest friends. So far, I have met up with a few and send SMS to a few more. Still no planned meetings, which is a great shame. Particularly with some of my friends whom I've known since school. I do feel great guilt for not made more of an effort, but I must remind myself that with the summer upon us, and the school children imminently breaking up for their holidays. Time is not on anyone's side at this moment.

The music video for the forthcoming cinema release, Thunderbirds is getting plenty of airplay on all the music channels. I know Busted are not exactly the most popular modern band and the lyrics of the song for the movie still leave very much to be desired. The rights to the actual television series were purchased by Carlton and there are plans to screen them soon in the UK. I hope they touch down soon after the movie hits the cinema screens this summer. I feel like a kid waiting for to go to the cinema for the first time. In some ways, I do wish I was ten years younger and anticipating this big summer blockbuster, with all the merchandising and other corporate tie-ins. There was a time, when I too would been drawn in by such promotions. "Cause now the boys are back in town, no strings to hold them down, down."

Sunday 4th July 2004

This evening, I turn to the dreary subject of football and with it England. I have finally decided to discuss it, as the dust begins to settle, with the final taking place this evening. What I love about international tournaments, is how it turns everyone into football fans. Even those, who have not even a passing interest in the national sport. One clear case is my dear friend Sippy. He is completely oblivious to everything football and most things sporting. Expect for WWE wrestling, (but is that more light entertainment?). Unexpectedly, I received a text message from him, minutes into the first game against France. He was out in his back garden, for a family barbeque, while they watched the game. Of all the people, I did not expect an SMS from him at that moment in time. Rather still, noting it was from him, I expected something more familiar, such as, "Come online mate" or "What you up to matey?". Instead, it had the mortal words, "Come on Eng-er-land!". The tide had indeed turned, but I was more concerned with how long would this interest last? I had little time to ponder the quarter final against Portugal. I was at work, had a busy day, very much more concerned with the pending tube strike, the following week. When it came down to the match, I felt deep in my heart, that maybe, just maybe England could provide us with that memorable moment. A player, come to life for the big occasion and show some signs of pure genius. When Owen, gave England the lead, with a defiant touch of excellence of the outside of his right foot, to lob Ricardo and send all England fans ecstatic. How sweet did that moment feel? Would it last? I knew that we were in for a game now, and something for the neutral to savour. But then, what happened? Rather than go and kill Portugal off, with a second or even third goal, the play became stagnated. Then twenty six minutes into the game, our star sensation, went off injured. The game changed. Hope faded. Well maybe, just in my head. My heart was telling me, to wake up. England were still one nil up, holding onto the game. For the time being. As the game drew on, I felt that England could just do this. Hope turned to joy, when Figo was substituted. Could England really hold on? But it was short lived, with Postiga's equalizer. England had opted to play more defensively and hold on to the lead, perhaps breaking on the counter, to nick a goal. I feel in qualifying games, this is an ideal game plan, but in the knock out stages of a major tournament? Who knows the full reasons for the game to turn in a split second. Then a moment, that we had all witness, six years ago. Sol Campbell, rose highest to meet the ball for a header. The ball was in the back of the net. Pure elation for all England fans! We were through. Then we look to the referee, Urs Meier. He had disallowed it. Incorrectly and robbed us of the victory. With extra time beckoning, the thought and failure of penalties came into my mind. Please, boys, spare us from the inevitable drama, such conclusions to a match bring. Win the game, in extra time, if need be. Please not, those spot kicks again. I heart sank the moment Portugal scored to take the lead late into the second period of extra time. Could England respond? Could we drag ourselves back into the game, after spending some 80 minutes, defending a lead. Prospects looked bleak, until a late corner, taken by Beckham, swung in near post, for Lampard to control, turn and shoot. YEAH! England had equalized. We were back in the game. Sheer joy flooded my body all over, and a strange sense of warmth overcame me mentally. Would this really be our year? Could all those years of hurt come to end? It was not to be. When the penalty shoot out commenced, I was unsure with only a few of the England takers. Those who eventually missed, were clear favourites to net a tick on the England score card. Why does this always happen to us? Maybe because penalty kicks can never been practiced. Think about it.

Can you believe it is July? Where has the time gone? Been quite busy this weekend, went over to the Henley Regatta yesterday evening, for the fireworks. Then today was spent at a friend's wedding in Elstree, Hertfordshire. Hope to upload some images soon. Wish I had time to write more on these subjects, but the time is taking over me. I need to start preparing for the working week, and winding down my weekend.

It hurts when you look at me that way
It scares me to hear the things you say
'Cause god only knows what i would do
If i had to live life without you

I see the sadness in your eyes
And i know i should have spent more time
'Cause god only knows I'd be a fool
Yes i would
To think that there's someone else but you

Friday 2nd July 2004

Friday, a great day of the week. It has been my favourite day, since first school. Now it usually takes two turns. I can either feel high. Full of bags of energy and have a great urgency to do everything. Or the flip side, worse still, I am heavily tired and exhausted from the working week and seek nothing but sleep. I come in, undress and usually lounge about watching TV. Before long, I am fast asleep on the sofa. Not the best way to spend a Friday night. Then again, neither is first option. A careful balance between the two would be ideal, but I know will never really materialize.

Quite a busy weekend planned, so most likely will not be able to blog again until late Sunday evening. There is so much I want to write and discuss, I have made notes on a few sheets of paper, just so I do not forget to include various events which occurred during the previous week. Do you like the slight changes to the comments dialog box?

Thursday 1st July 2004

Eight days into my new job, and disaster did really strike. I had a few options. Bite the bullet and drive in. Consider paying over the odds for a taxi from Marylebone station to the office? Or risk a crowded bus? On the train home, on Tuesday evening, I overheard someone saying that they were driving back into London, later that evening and booking into a hotel for the night. This seemed at first glance, a great idea, until you think about the car. You have to check out by 11am and then where can you park your car for some 6 hours? Exactly. Having consider all the options, I took the advice from Transport for London. Walk. On the tube map, and even in the A to Z, the distance appeared to be exhausting. Estimating, that the few miles could be covered in around thirty minutes, I checked my train timetable. To be within a realistic chance of getting to work on time, I would need to catch the 06.03 service from High Wycombe. Not a problem. Thankfully, a lift from my sister made the journey possible. I usually catch the first 326 service into town, on a weekday, so a lift was the only option. It is strange how different the streets of London are, when comparing them with a map. At times, I felt I was heading in the wrong direction, using my rather modest sense of direction to guide me to the office. From Marylebone station, it was across to Baker Street and walking down to Oxford Street. London, in the early hours is a world apart from how I recall the city. The deserted pavements, with the occasional commuter, also letting the feet take the strain. The rest were packed like sardines into buses, with major queues forming, at every stop. Delivery vans, were unloading to some of the biggest high street names, making the best of the light morning traffic. All those super brand stores, including some of the most famous stores in the world. I suppose, if I was a coffee lover, I would be in heaven in this part of town. Starbucks for as far as the eye can see, and almost around every corner. Those who have seen Shrek 2, will know what I mean, on this point. Arriving at a similar time at the office, as I would have done, if I had made the twenty minute tube journey. Which do I prefer, well I will let you be the judge of that!

My role at work is becoming more hands on. Given more responsibility. We all know, that with great power comes great responsibility. Nerve racking when you have to start working on your own, but it is not too bad and the jobs that need to be undertaken are quite simply. Just got to remember how to cope with those every occurring sticky situations. Enjoyment is important in the work place and I am enjoying my work. The work day is just right, even though I start at 8am and finish at 4pm. Which to many people sounds highly tantalizing, the fact that there are over two hours of traveling to add onto the front and end of those allotted hours. Twelve hours away from the house, seems somewhat disheartening, as you are only working for eight of those. Oh well, this is life.

So, we come to my journey home. I decided to head back in the same direction. Walking, perhaps at this time of day, was ill advised. The hustle and bustle of Oxford Street on a weekday afternoon. How can I describe it? Hundreds of tourists, visitors and shoppers, wandering the pavements with a sense of ease and disengagement. While within their mists you have a hundred more, commuters trying to get somewhere. I was with them, that wet afternoon. I hit rapid pace, once I got onto Oxford Street. The crowds were too much, with the queues for buses, made up of hoards of people, stretched across the right of way, for all pedestrians. Every now and gain, I would switch up a gear from a swift walk, to a jog, to a quick run. I am not fit. I know I desperately need to get fit. My body was never designed for more than a gentle stroll, and a short one for that matter. However, knowing that time was pressing upon me, like the rain, now softly coming down across my face, I had to take some action. As I turned right onto Baker Street, with the rain coming down, much harder now. I knew this was it. I jogged at some pace up to the tube station. The traffic was beginning to get heavy now, the rush hour would be soon upon us. Why is it referred to as an hour, when it lasts much more longer than that. Never mind, I did not have time for such trivial questions. The station was about ten minutes away, ten minutes which I did not have to spare. So, in an attempt to make sure I got to the station in good time, I had no choice. I needed to run. Run as fast as I could. I hit the turbo boost and not a moment too soon. I was lucky with the road traffic too, able to rush across the streets with no black cabs heading for me. I accelerated past a older gentleman, who had be running for at least half an hour. He appeared in much shaper than me, even taking into account his age. I sped past him and rushed to the station and did not stop until I reached the ticket barrier. As I entered the platform, I noted the time on the platform clock. 16:59 All my running, swift walking, dodging of other pedestrians had paid off. I had made it to the station in time for my train. Why, oh why had the walk taken over thirty minutes longer, ten hours later in the day? I boarded my bus home at 17:57, again noting the time on the bay clock. As the 326 pulled out of Newlands Bus Station, the sun was shining. After a day of rain, wind and tall orders, I felt some satisfaction. For whatever the reasons, others had decided to make sure my day would be awful. You too are entitled to your view on this industrial dispute and subsequent action. Did they succeed? Of course not. I forgot to mention, one last option that was always open to me. To stay in bed.


Sunday 27th June 2004

Following six months and three days without going to the pictures, I decided to put things right. Went to see, Shrek 2 last night at the fabulous O2 Centre on Finchley Road. On my daily journey to work, I see the leisure centre, from my train. As you know, my favourite brand of cinema is Warner Village, recently re-branded as Vue. I had not seen the first movie in full, just patches of the ending on Sky. This was not a major problem, because the movie standards up very well on it's own. Overall, it was an entertaining way to spend a few hours on a Saturday evening and there are very clever touches and jokes which are aimed specifically at the adults in the audience. I have now seen quite a few computer animated features, but my favourite still remains, Toy Story 2. It has the most amazing and ingenious opening and I love the hero, he is something else.

Talking of films, there are plenty of films I want to go and see this summer. Saw the trailers for Spiderman 2 and also Thunderbirds. Another is the classic Around The World in 80 Days. To those of you you remember the animated cartoon from the late 80s, which featured all the characters as animals. Fogg was a lion, if I recall correctly. This should be a real treat, particularly as it stars Jackie Chan.

While I was at middle school, every Friday afternoon I would head over to my friend Andrew's house. He was one of my best friends at school and we knew each other for a good ten years. When got to his house, we would rush through our Maths and English homework. Then at 6pm it was time for tea. Then we would go into his living room, switch on the television and settle down. It was time for Thunderbirds. This was by far my favourite of all of Gerry Anderson's creations, although Captain Scarlet did have some great things going for it. For a series created in the 60s and with a case of puppets, it stood up very well, some thirty years later on some impressionable eleven year old boys. Yes, we had computers then and some basic games consoles (16 bit anybody?) but the drama of the show, just captured our imagination in a way no other form of entertainment could. It was at this moment in time that all of Anderson's classic shows were making a comeback, for a new generation of children to enjoy. The culmination of this was when Anther Turner created a replica of Tracey Island. The toy, become the most popular of 1992, and sold out, so many children (and parents) decided to build their own, with the help of Blue Peter.

I have a confession to make. I have not been able to pick up a copy of the Metro at all last week. I see many people reading it in the mornings, but never get the chance to pick up a copy for myself. Even some of my colleagues read it in the office, but still I have not been able to read it.

Friday 25th June 2004

Friday, and the end of my official week at work. How has it been? Well it has been very different from what I expected, I give you that. During the course of the week, the commuting was physically causing me some issues, but at this moment in time, I feel great. Maybe it is just that Friday feeling? Compared to my journey during my placement year, this is a walk in the park and includes 0.04% of the stress. Of course, there is fact that other people how the destiny of whether I get to work on time. Rather than me being more in control, behind the wheel of my car. But there are many benefits. No high fuel bills, no issues with parking. It is literally a case of jumping on the bus and then train and getting into work. My hours are also much more convenient, which means I miss the major rush in the morning and early evening. The only real problem I have had this week, is having to lug my briefcase around, particularly on the tube. I am going to get something smaller and more suitable for my journey this weekend. (Damn, I'm really starting to sound like a woman on here!) After all, I only carry a book and some notes. Does this really justify me carrying the thing all the way to the City and back every day?

My Dad drove over to Germany in 1996 on a business trip. He was driving the company Ford Sierra at the time. On this drive over to the continent, he found a collection of cassette tapes (remember them?) in the car. He listened to one, to it's death on the journey. The album, was a collection of old school, RnB tracks, featuring such artists as Incognito and R. Kelly. My favourite track on this album, was by an early 90s female trio, with amazing soulful voices. It is a shame they did not gain as much popularity here, as they did in their native America. Accomplished song writers in their own right, as clearly demonstrated on Bet's Listening Party. Well you will be glad to know that Javine, one of the losers from ITV's Popstars - The Rivals, has covered the track. I saw the video for the first time this evening on MTV Hits. My first impression is that she has decided to add her own unique style to the proceedings, but I am no sure if she has captured the inner beauty of the original (if that is at all possible). We shall see, but not sure what the gang over at PopJustice will make of it. Luckily, Kiss and Smash Hits have both added the classic, Jade track to their play lists! ;)

If I let you come inside, tomorrow will you hide
Will you be there for me, when I need someone to hold
Baby don't misunderstand, I do want you for my man
I just need a little time, before I invest you my love
Don't walk away boy, my love won't hurt you
Don't walk away boy, I'll be right there for you

Thursday 24th June 2004

Something that I have missed from my previous two entries. I have started reading again. After an absence of some four years, which has meant the last time I picked up a book was during my last A Level English Literature exam. Shameful, I admit. On Monday, I decided against reading a book. I wanted to concentrate on my journey and getting to work at a reasonable time. On Tuesday morning, in a frantic rush, I went into my sisters' bedroom. There were books on the shelves and on the dressing table. Most of these were, what I would describe as pop culture books. Popular, easy to dip into modern literature. However, I was seeking something a bit more substantial, a story with some depth an overall experience. As I waded through a pile, I found Crime and Punishment. (It was voted into 60th place by viewers of the BBC Big Read.) Written in the Victorian era, by Russian author Fyodor Dostoevsky, the book appealed to me, for the struggle that the main character must face. Something I quickly picked up from reading the blurb on the back cover. It was duely placed into my briefcase and I begin reading the moment I stepped upon my train to London. So far, it has been an engaging read, very well structured, if with a rapid pace of events. I will keep you posted with my progress.

Wednesday it rained quite heavily in London and the weather did not improve during the course of the day. Overall it was a day, which felt more like September than mid June. But overall, a satisfying day, for I feel I earned my money. The morning started with very much, 'more of the same'. Imaging and re-imaging PCs in the workshop. Then in the afternoon, it was a case of heading over to the 8th floor, which I discovered was deserted. A clear up operation ensued, with monitors, printers and any other hardware being moved into a central location. One of the largest offices. Then, the tough job of clearing up power cables and CAT5e cables from desks, floors and behind walls. Not the sort of manual labour you want to carry out, while wearing a brand new suit. Oh, well, it had to be done. :) Although, it was overcast, the view from the 8th floor was impressive. From the back off the building you could clearly see the London Eye and part of the Palace of Westminister. Also a great spot from which to capture Saint Paul's Cathedral. Later on in the summer, I will take my digital camera into work and take some photos. This should give a blunt clue to my location in the City.

You may note that I receive some comments with regards to the Gillette Mach 3 advertising. Well a man on the inside, has e-mailed me explaining in detail his opinion and those of much higher standing in the industry. They all feel that the 'copy' (words of commercial) do not fit the concept of a razor. Since when did you have an angel by your side as you cut yourself, in a daze at 5.23am. Great to be able to get the view from across the pond.

So, now to today. Thursday. I got up late, 5.20am (yes that is late, I should be up by 5am!). Even though at 4:43am, my body clock wakes me up automatically. Strange how your body and mind is able to adjust to a new routine, so quickly. The bus I catch, takes me into the bus station. However, I filled in a questionnaire, from Buckinghamshire County Council, which was conducted to get an indication of the popularity of a direct service to the station from the suburbs. The trains are quite frequent, the 6.39am service stops at all stations to Marylebone. I had caught it on Tuesday and Wednesday. However, as I entered the station, I saw it waiting on platform 3. Everyone appeared to have boarded the train already. Damn! No choice, I had to make a dash for it, down the subway, underneath the rail lines. Just before I got to the other side of this underground passage, I heard the turbo diesel engines, roar into life. Then slowly, felt the train above my head moving away from the station. My running came to an abrupt stop. I panicked, again. Wondering what time I would get into work now. 8:30am, perhaps? When was the next train? I checked the electronic screens. I had 13 minutes to wait. So I took a seat, still thinking of how I would go about explaining my poor time keeping to my manager, on my fourth day! :S Then, I noticed that the train to Marylebone, only stopped at Beaconsfield and Gerrards Cross. Fantastic. I should be able to make up the lost time and perhaps even beat the earlier train into London. The week was catching up with me. Well, my body at least. Reading would have been a waste, because my brain, was just not ready to take in, anything really. I drifted off to sleep, with my head lent against the window. I awoke, from my sleep to discover that we were just heading into the station. Rubbing my eyes, I looked at my watch. 7.28am. Fantastic. I would be able to use Marylebone tube station before it closes for the morning. I am beginning to learn, that for Teg, there is never just the option of one last chance saloon. ;)

Can you believe that it is only 6 months until Christmas Eve? Where has the time gone?

Wondering what track I would associate with my first week at work? Well, in the IT workshop, the radio is exclusively tuned into Capital FM. A song I have grown to love and keep humming along to on my travels on the train. along to is "This Love" by Maroon 5.

Tuesday 22nd June 2004

Two days into my new job and new routine. I have to admit, even as invincible as I am to the daily commute, I am slightly tired. Firstly, let me guide you through my first official day. London and the bright lights of the City. It was hectic, that I had expected. But there were some comforting surprises and other delights :) . However, let us begin, very much at the beginning.

I woke up, just before 6am and knew I had to be at my bus stop by 7.20am. This particular stop, is conveniently placed to the rear of my house and our housing state. With the proximity of the Asda superstore, the 329 Arriva bus service runs every 15 minutes. My breakfast was light cereal, I had wanted some Kellogg's Crunchy Nut Cornflakes had to make do with Weetabix Weetos. Never mind. I arrived at the bus stop, and within a minute, the bus arrived. So far, everything was going like clockwork. There was only one other person on the bus, but slowly it filled up with other early birds, making their journey to work. A blonde guy, aged around 17, was playing his music loud. By definition I mean, the sound of his music was clearly audible over the sound of the aging diesel engine of the bus. He listened to No Doubt and some other trance music. This did not bother me in the slightest, but I noticed other passengers, being concerned and some showing their disgust by their facial expressions. Newlands Bus Station was the destination and just before 8am, the first leg of my journey was complete. Now, the casual stroll across a deserted High Wycombe town centre, across to the train station. I had planned to catch the earlier train, but got through the gates to see the 8.07am train waiting at platform one. The start time I had been given was 9.30am, so my journey planning allowed for any delays, either with the bus, train or tube. This service by Chiltern Railways is one of the fastest to London, with only a few stops before terminating at Marylebone. At Wycombe, there was only a trickle of commuters, but at the stops of Beaconsfield and Gerrards Cross (which generally are next down the line) the train filled up. I sat opposite a old gentleman. He sat down with Daily Mail in hand, and clutched an attaché case. To be surprise, he opened it, to reveal a modern Sony Walkman. The new shape, which are almost completely circular. As the train moved out of the station and onward, he rushed to get plugged into his music. Unlike the passenger on the bus earlier, he had the courtesy to play his music at a discreet level. Therefore, I was unable to decipher what he was listening to. My original guess, was classical. His next move, was to begin the crossword. Franticly jotting down possible words on the borders of his paper. So this continued, until the crossword was complete. Then, it was a case of digesting the morning news. Other passengers I observed? Well a old lady came and sat down next to be at our next stop. She was at least in her mid fifties. She too carried a case of some description. As the train rattled towards the capital, she got out two booklets. On closer examination, I discovered they were prospectuses. But not just any old prospectuses. No sir. They were for Oxford and Cambridge. The institutions which produce the great minds of our society and recognised across the world as the locations of academic excellence. Perhaps she was considering heading back into education and wanting to gain some self satisfaction from the achievement. The train arrived into London Marylebone on time. Most of the other commuters were in a hurry, making a mad dash for the exits off the platform. I had time to spare, but still wanting to get to my destination with time to spare, rather than making up the final leg in a mad rush. Little did I know, of the unexpected event that lay before me.

With the works to the escalators at Marylebone tube station (as mentioned on my Friday entry) I scrolled over to Baker Street. From here, it was a case of jumping on the southbound Bakerloo line, heading to Embankment. Overall, the tube was busy, cramped, hectic and hot. I was almost there, I looked at my watch, as I strode the escalators up to the northbound district and circle line platform. It was 8.59am, I had plenty of time. Then, as I reached the top of the stairs, I noticed a large hoard of people, standing aimlessly and confused. Then, I saw the empty tube train. What was going on? The voice over the PA, confirmed my worst fears. A suspect package at Blackfriars I panicked. What should I do? Risk paying over the odds for a taxi? Try to catch an alternative tube to reach a station nearby. My initial instinct was to go for the first option, so I headed out of the station. Coming across a tube map, I began to ponder the options and then realised that station I had used on Friday. At pace, I swiftly changed direction and headed back into the station and for the Northern Line platform. The situation was causing me great bother, mainly the pressure of time, which was increasing by the second. I did not want to be be late. Then again, I did not want to arrive exceptionally late, so 10am. But did I make the best logistic decision? God knows. I retraced my steps from my walk on Friday morning. I made it into the office at 9.45am, to discover the receptionist on the phone, to the HR officer, requesting my name badge to be printed. Just in time. This adds a completely new dimension to the phrase.

My first day was filled with interesting observations. Firstly, I was surprised by the general relaxed nature around the office. IT Support can be very hectic at times, particularly when it is all hands on deck for some major fire fighting. My assumption was that a big international law firm would be slightly more tuned in, when dealing with major conglomerates around the world. To the contrary, all departments I have visited so far, do not seem to have any sense of real urgency. People are quietly busy, getting on with their allotted task. Maybe this is just their way. I am now a small clog, in that very big machine. :)

My working day, finished at 5.30pm. I headed back to Marylebone to catch the train home. I will not bore you with the details, the journey was quiet, without incident. A couple, from Birmingham had just been to the opening day of Wimbledon. They had a portable television, remember those? Trying desperately to watch the final few sets of the tennis, before switching over for the big match. It was when I got into Wycombe, and the bus station when things started to get interesting. The bus I catch is the 326. It has two rounds and circles two separates areas of the town. As it pulled into the station, I boarded, thinking it was making the second journey, towards the south. I was sadly mistaken. The signs were apparent, as soon as we headed out of the station. Instead of the taking the customary turning off the main roundabout, the driver headed east. My heart sang. Would I get home in time for the big match? The second half, looked like a distant prospect. The driver was a jolly West Indian gentleman. When we arrived deep into Micklefield, the point at which the bus terminates, he turned to me and said, "Where to sir?" I explained my proposed destination. He responded, with a slight snigger, "you got da rong circuit. The 315 is what you be wanting. If you lucky, you get the next one leaving the station". I just nodded in acknowledgement, feeling embarrassed at my mistake. The bus service, 315 the driver referred to was the weekend and evening service. I recalled that it made a cross country journey through High Wycombe town centre, starting off high at the top of the valley, in Flackwell Heath and then across to the quiet suburb of Lane End. So I was ending back into Wycombe, hoping to catch the 'correct' bus this time around. Just around the corner from the station, the bus made an unexpected stop in the middle of the road. The bus driver, opened his slide window and called out to his colleague. The driver of the 315. "I got wan for ya...!" Instantly the driver responded and pulled his bus to the side of the road. I rushed from my seat, dazed by the events occurring. I jumped off the bus and thanked the jovial driver for all his help. He had been a star. Running as fast as I could, with a brief case in my left hand, I crossed the road and boarded the bus. Job done.

I arrived home, with the sun setting behind the neighbouring estate, streaks of sunshine gleaming behind the long trees. A picturesque scene, which needed to be captured. I looked at my watch. It was 7.57pm. I had been out of the house thirteen hours. As I rang the doorbell, the clock struck 8pm. As events became apparent, England were heading out of the European Championships. Luckily, someone decided to come out of his premature retirement from scoring international goals. Then, a special young boy thought he would let the world know of his talent. :) Bring on the hosts!

As if you have not got tired of reading this entry already, I still have a few other after thoughts to add. Hopefully, we be able to update later in the week. I hope to add some more images, so you can get the sense of my general day. So feel free to leave your comments and messages for me. I will try my best to get in touch with you all.

Sunday 20th June 2004

Smooth. That is how I would describe several people I know. But predominately I have noticed something. That the smoothest people I know, are black. There is just something special, unique or sophisticated, in the way they pull this off. A friend for example, would put on his shades, plugging his iPod and head of to Uni. Nothing particularly interesting in that. Well sure, but the way in which he strolls over to Uni, is just amazing. It is as if he does not have a care in the world and is very much away, the music taking him to some distant shore. There are very few white men that can carry off such a move. There are of course, exceptions to this rule and David Beckham is one such person. My case in point is, the new television commercials, featuring him. If you have missed them so far, view them, you will not be disappointed. The moment you need to watch out for his Mr. B coming down some stairs in a nice black suit and smiling. (SMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTH) That is the only word that comes to mind to describe the moment.

Question for the ladies. Is it okay to appreciate the finer parts of man's appearance. David Beckham. I have noticed throughout my life, girls always describe other girls as 'pretty'. Why is this so? Us guys are never so general with our comments. But then perhaps it is our directness that gets us into so much trouble! :S

As if you needed reminding, it is Father's Day today. And, how can I sum up the day? Well I can do so, with a few special words, bought to you by our sponsor.

You know the feeling
Every guy's had it
Your unbeatable
Unstoppable
You've got that walking on water feeling
You look - they smile
You win - they go home

It's the feeling you get every day
With the closest shave
Mach 3 Turbo
Every move is smooth
Every word is cool

I never want to lose that feeling...

Saturday 19th June 2004

Went out to Milton Keynes this morning, with a old work colleague from my placement year. We went there from his house, so I got to experience the Golf experience. As you may well be aware, I am not a big fan of the marquee, because I think it is highly overrated. But then again, you can't beat German engineering, particularly if you tend to go for the top end of the range. The R32 or the V6 Motion. Having purchased the later, but decided upon the mark IV model, I knew the right choice had been made. A plush leather interior and the humming sound of an engine, that could turn at the slight pressure on the pedal, to the roar of a lion. Then, you are pushed back into your seat as the 2.8l V6 producing 200 bhp comes into life. A truly breathtaking car, with earth shattering performance. Would I buy one? To be honest, no. Why? A car should reflect more than just your personality. If it needs to make a statement of who you are, it also needs tell people, where you've been. Sorry, but for me, it never will be GTI Forever. No matter what the hype.

Following my visit to London, yesterday, some further after thoughts. When heading towards the Northern Line platform at London Bridge, I was approached. Well, stopped really, but an old black gentleman, quite smartly dressed. He shook my hand, with the words, "Aslam a lakem". Now, do I really look like a Muslim? I think not, but obviously to this guy I was. Anyway, I thought he wanted some directions and was about to get my tube map out, when he suddenly asked for some money. This took me slightly by surprise. Particularly when he was well dressed and in the mould of Patrick Truman. Well I made my excuses and disappeared onto my platform. All I can say is that I think it is easy to tell if a girl is Muslim, than if a guy is Muslim. Do you agree? Leave your thoughts, if you may.

The third series of Bo Selecta! started last night. Overall, the program was fantastic but I was disappointed that my favourite character got such a small slice of the action. Michael Jackson has a great following. It has only been recently that I have been able to comprehend why this is so. He is portrayed on the show, with a comic touch of Eddie Murphy and the vocal talent of Don King. To note this in true reflection, you need to watch Don King: Only in America. This TV movie from 1997, has Ving Rhames in the title role and he captures the essence of the boxing promoter in excellent form. To appreciate this fully, go back and watch some of the MJ sketches from series one and two. Everything falls into place and you realise that Michael Jackson, is truly a King. The format of the show has changed, also and I am not sure how well this works. Is Avid Merrion, essential a talk show host? He was much better as the obsessive celebrity stalker. Time will tell, but I just hope that this is not the beginning of the end of such a fantastic comical concept.

Will try and blog tomorrow, but I feel I may not get the chance. Will be busy with Father's Day and then preparing myself for my first big day at work. Excited. Anxious.

Friday 18th June 2004

Preparation is important with everything in your life. Always "Do you homework!" That is something, that rings in my ears regularly. So this morning, I set off on my daily commute, as if I was going to work. This dummy run, was purely to check the timing of the bus, train and then tube services to my new place of work. Also to plan for any possible disruption and have a backup plan. Overall, the journey went to plan. I picked up the bus at 7.30am, outside my house and then caught the 8.07am Chiltern Railways service to London Marylebone. Then, I find that the Marylebone tube station is closed from 7.30 until 9.35am on weekdays for work on the escalators. Never mind, Baker Street is literally a stones throw away. I think it was at this point, I lost some valuable travel time. In London a few minutes can make a difference. Anyhow, not a major problem. From here, I took the Bakerloo line all the way to Embankment. It is here, I transfer across to the Circle or District platform. Two stops down the line is my exit, Blackfriars. I walked past the office at 9.33am, a few minutes behind schedule, to see a familiar face behind the reception desk. I noticed a few people enter. Then my mind was racing. How many of my potential future colleagues, had I perhaps seen on my tube journey? Had we made eye contact, perhaps stood next to each other, completely unaware of the connections that would be made next week.

Having completely my covert surveillance operation with some success, I decided to stick around in the neighbourhood. Having bought along my digital camera, to take some photos, I headed towards St. Paul's Cathedral. Literally around the corner, I noticed a hoard of tourists patiently waiting to be taken on their guided tour. Obviously I do not want to give away the exact location of my work place, but those of you, whom know London well, should be able to make an educated guess. Deciding to avoid the hassle of the foreign visitors to our capital I searched for some good vantage points to take some photos. There were a few, but as I headed around the corner, I saw the Millennium Bridge. Great, a fantastic spot to take some photos of the City Skyline and also images of the river and surrounding area. I took some 30 images in total, but below is in my opinion the best. On my trails around the web, I have discovered, Andrew's Photolog, a unique collection of candid shots taken across the city. The penny drops as I realise the potency of a black and white image.

At this point, I suddenly had an urge to visit Starbucks. I am not a coffee drinker and actually personally detest the drink. (How can people drink that first thing in the morning?) Anyway, I still wanted to head over there. So I decided upon the branch in Leicester Square. I felt rather silly at one point, ordering a standard English breakfast tea, with a menu showing the delights of the coffee bean from all corners of the earth and available in every imaginable variety. This was only my second visit to a Starbucks. Having visited the Leicester outlet in June 2001. I enjoyed my medium sized tea, and double chocolate muffin. Then headed off back into Leicester Square, wondering what to do next.

I decided to head north, and visit Brent Cross Shopping Centre, with a friend. First time here, but no comparison to the impressive BullRing Birmingham. Then caught a bus to Harrow, some twenty minutes away. Had lunch at in the patriotically named, St. George's Shopping Centre. Then decided, it was time to head back home.

What do you do when you see an old friend? I saw an old school friend this afternoon, as I was heading back home. He did not see me, as he was too busy chatting to his friends, but I saw him. It cross my mind, to at least say hello, but I did not know what reaction this may provoke. Also, what would we say, beyond, the formal how are you? I therefore made the decision to just walk on by. If it had been someone else, I may have gathered the courage to at least say hi. But this was an exception to the rule. We parted on bad terms and I feel he may still bear some grudge, even though it was over two years ago now. What surprised me, was the fact that he was still kicking around in Wycombe. A town he hated to the core, and boiled up several plans of escape. All which had ended in failure, with his subsequent return back to his hometown. I hope he is doing well. I hope one day, he can learn to forgive me. For, for whatever harm I may have done.

Wednesday 16th June 2004

I start work on Monday. Although, somewhat nervous, apprehensive and generally daunted by the prospect of this new position in the City, I am trying to build up some confidence. I have been crawling around various websites, reading up the all important advice to make sure my first day goes swimmingly. It was during this search, that I came across this humorous site. Unless you have have never worked in your life so far, you will have come across the concept of Office Politics. Described by some as the underworld of work, this is indeed the campaign of murmurings from the tea lady to the company director that can bring with it, both promotion, demotion and the P45. All on the basis of what is said, to whom and when. This site, is hilarious. I was on the floor, when I read the Induction entry from the HR Horrors sections. So please read some of this website, because you will discover that sometimes the truth hurts and sometimes it is plainly hysterical. Every aspect of working life is covering from appraisals to company cars to technology. Just make sure you visit in your lunch hour, and not when the boss is pressing you for that report, you were supposed to submit last week. Then again, you might want some practical advice on surviving, office politics in the workplace. Plenty there, to make sure you moving in the right direction. Have I made the right decision? Well, I should be able to answer that with some confidence, next week. Give me time.

I bought the England home shirt today. My previous English shirts have included, the European Championships home shirt from 1996 and 2000. Then the home shirt for France 98. I particularly like this new shirt, because it is reversible and was quite good value for money. Shall be wearing with pride tomorrow afternoon! Will England, do the business against the unpredictable Swiss? Of course, have the Arsenal away shirt from last season and the home shirt from the 2001 season.

Not much else to report at the moment, I'm afraid. Although, I have updated the Audio page for the first time in over two months. I have come across some interesting blogs, via which uses the London Underground tube network, as away of categorizing all the capital blogs. There have been some unique and creative blogs, but nothing jumping out at me, to warrant inclusion on my blog roll. Having said that, I still need to spend more time going through the site. So far, I have only concentrate on tube stations I have used in the past week or so. If you come across any blogs that you suggest I take a peek at, I will be more than happy to do so. Just drop me an e-mail please.

Monday 14th June 2004

Why do we do it? Why do the English national squad always press the self-destruct button? Why, in the last dying moments of the opening group game of an international tournament do we lose that all important concentration and fall flat on our faces? All that when you are in a commanding position for 90 minutes, defending a one nil lead, playing some good football to contain the deadly French strikers. A draw, which I felt that game was deserving of, would have been at least partially acceptable. But to throw away your lead, in such a manner, and then one lapse in concentration, to be followed by a cynical back pass, which players like Henry, live for.

How do I feel, at 4 minutes passed 10 (last night)? Well totally dejected, frustrated and empty. "It could have been all songs in the street, it was nearly complete, it was nearly so sweet". I think as an England fan, you have to realise that there are far more, what could have been scenarios than there are moments of sheer joy. France did not win the game, the English lost in. In more ways than one.

Under normal circumstances, I would trailing around various news sites to get the full post-match analysis on the England game. But today, I am going to do something slightly different. To get the view from the fan, I am searching for a blog entry from an depressed England fan. So far found, Diary of an England fan. Just a shame it has not been updated with recent events. If you find any blogs that discuss the English defeat, please let me know.

During the half time ad break during the England game, did you notice an rather below the belt act by ITV? They showed a mock up of the BBC Euro2004 trails, with Larson of Sweden. Then, for the voice over to say, "We don't want no artists of football, you PLANK! We just want to watch the football!" Then show the details for their up and coming matches, this evening. I never thought that ITV would steep so low. The BBC trails are much more classy, including the intro sequence for their European Championship coverage. Particularly, when you compare the production values and overall end product. BBC wins hands down for a much more polished finished article.

Talking of commercials. I like television commercials that make you think. I remember when I first saw the Honda Accord ad. It was a special moment. Everyone in my family just stopped, the room fell silent, as we were taken over by utter intrigue, for the poetry in motion on the small screen. The fact that no computer trickery was used, makes the final fluid array. All that much more breathtaking to watch and enjoy.

The advert for the Audi A6, too builds on this sense of mystery and intrigue. The luxury saloon drives around a city centre, but if you look more closely at the backdrops, you will be taking a double take for sure. They at first appear fine, but at closer inspection you realise that the car is driving around a city that does not exist in reality. This will make much more sense to you, once you have seen the ad.

Just a passing observation. You must have seen the video or at least heard the latest track by Jay Sean. Is it just me, or does it have more than a passing resemblance to the 1995 internation hit by Luniz, "I Got Five On It"? Listen to it very closely next time you hear it, and wait for the chorus.

Woke up this morning, and with my breakfast, I was flipping around the variety of music channels. They I stumbled upon VH1 Classic. The opening piano solo, threw me slightly, as I gathered my thoughts to reflect. Yes maybe it is true. Maybe, "That's Just The Way It Is".

Sunday 13th June 2004

I watched the action comedy, I-Spy on Sky Movies last night. Not a movie I would have gone to the cinema to see, but enjoyable way to waste away a few hours on a Saturday night. It is amazing how Eddie Murphy has not aged in his movies and appears as fresh as he did when playing Axel in Beverly Hills Cop. I think he is still very funny, even if some say his act is very much old hat. I also really admire Owen Wilson, as an actor able to play both serious and comic roles. I have to admit, that I prefer his brother, Luke. Particularly in such movies as Charlie's Angels and Blue Streak. Excellent stuff. I still have not been to the cinema this year, apart from seeing the final Lord Of The Rings movie, towards the end of January. Will try and make time for such things later this summer.

England play France later this evening. (As if you didn't know already?!) Looking forward to the spectacle, particularly how the English defence deal with the master, Henry. Like many other people, I am proud to have the flag of Saint George, flying high above my car. Does it sum up how I feel, on a day like today? No, only Shakespeare can do that my friends.

Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!

Saturday 12th June 2004

I was driving home from a friend's house late last night, traveling on my favourite road. I am not sure exactly why this stretch of insignificant tarmac has become so important to me. I suppose, because it is the final leg of my journey as I return home and enter the home counties, my home county, Buckinghamshire. It is not exactly the most impressive piece of the UK motorway network, but it just has a special place in my passion for driving. At that time of night, traffic is so light, you can cruise at a moderate speed and make great time on your journey. I join onto the motorway at junction 6 (southbound), just has it cuts through a hillside, and on a clear sunny day, you can see the chalk cliff faces as you drive through, leaving Oxfordshire far behind you. Then has you travel some five miles, taking a quarter of the full mileage total, you go past junction 5, which is the A40 / Stokenchurch exit. Here, there is some lighting and the three lanes level off after the difficult uphill climb. This is the point, when you put you foot on the throttle, head onto the fast lane and coast towards Wycombe. There is not much to see on this drive, particularly at night. But then, as I see the signs for junction 4 appear, the lighting re-appears and on the left hand side, there is the white building, telling me, "Andrew, your nearly home", in a comforting tone, that soothes my mind and warms my heart. The song I was listening to on my drive home was took my breath away, and gave me the chance to reflect on yesterday, today and even tomorrow.

I realise now when this journey began. The journey began, in the early hours of Sunday 22nd December 2002. I was leaving Hitchin, Hertfordshire, after the work Christmas party. As I drove across the M25, on that cold winter's night, I was listening to "Something Inside So Strong" by Labi Siffre. The song has been used by Peugeot, a few months previously for the launch of their new 307 model. Only last night, did I realise the significance of that event, some eighteen months later. I felt then, that some worldly power was telling me that everything is going fine and that all the challenges that lie ahead will be worth the effort. Today I realise that it is true. You do indeed, reap what you sow. With hard work and dedication you can achieve anything. Nothing is impossible, apart from the restrictions you place upon yourself. As everything has happened so quickly and all the pieces of the jigsaw fallen into place, with perfect timing, I found myself seeing my life taking a dramatic change. A change for the better, for sure. A change that is going to do me good, in the long term, for sure. But, I would be lying if I did not attempt the great sense of apprehension I feel. Anxious that tomorrow, will bring more challenges for me to face and more decisions to make. I suppose I am afraid of making the wrong decision. But I should not fear such things. They will not help my course now. I should take the approach, that I will always make the wise decision, considering the circumstances. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Every minute is changing the colours of life,
Sometimes it is cold, sometimes it is hot,
Live every minute to the full,
Whatever the atmosphere,
Who knows is tomorrow will be or not

Friday 11th June 2004

Lady Luck does cast somewhat of a great shadow over my life. When I need luck the most, it runs out on me and finds another friend (or is that foe?). I can recall moments, in my life, when everything is in place. All I need is just an ounce of good luck. The dream has never been forefilled, that goal never reached, the final song never sung. Until now. For once, I have some good news. Describing this has good news does not do what I have to announce, any justice at all. There is good news, and there is the news I am about to tell the world. I never thought everything would fall into place so quickly, or in such a straightforward manner. If you had taken a seat next to me in my car, during my daily 120 mile round trip during my placement year, you would had quite a uphill task to convince me of the following. That within the space of some eighteen months, I would be working in the City for one of the most prestigious law firms in the world. I suppose, at that time in my life, I was only seeing the finish lines for the occasional mile, and not the whole marathon. Call that my narrow-mindedness or naivety, if you will. But today, I hear those wonderful words. "You have been offered the position..". It is difficult to describe how I feel at this moment. Glad to have found a job, and that for the time being at least the hunting stops and the real hard work begins. Nervous, uncontrollably, but also slightly scared. This is a big jump for me and bridging the gap will be a challenging task. I also feel, a sense of excitement. I feel like I am on the brink of something big, something new. A new beginning, if you will. A fresh start. Where a place to start. The greatest capital, in my eyes, not just Europe but the world.

Now that I will be traveling to London everyday, via the train and tube, I am going to make some decisions. I was considering purchasing a MP3 player, and having some music to listen to on the journey. Although, at first this seemed like an excellent idea, I decided against it. There is something much more enriching and valuable I could do with the couple of hours I will have in commuting time each day. Read. I do enjoy reading, but have in recent years, fallen out of favour with the 'book'. I want to start reading again, firstly concentrating on the more classic texts, to modern day masterpieces. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Feel free to leave your comments.

The other decision I have made, is to try and best observe people on the train and particularly on the London Underground. There is already a blog for the Tube but I am going to make my entries on here slightly more reflective. This will be based on the people I meet, the people I see and the general day-to-day goings on. I will try and make it a regular record, perhaps weekly. The aim being to build up a picture of my average week. Those other commuters whom I meet every day, or once a week also heading from leafy Buckinghamshire into the City.

The greatest gift, this blog has ever given? Well it is simply the gift of encouragement, to make someone else want to blog. You would think that would be enough alone, but there is more. For one friend who has recently started a blog, he has used my experience and positive views as the starting point of the very first entry. I am moved, very moved that he can put into words, the idle chit-chat of a conversation several months ago. The author has requested that for the time being, his 'thought blog' be a private affair, but I am sure the moment, he decides to make it public, I will be on hand to offer some minor words of great congratulation. We therefore, anxiously await his 'arrival'.

Was today a perfect day? Not sure, but it came very very close. The pop come rock song that is heard during the titles of Legally Blonde easily describes how one should feel on their 'Perfect Day'. But I feel, for me, that day is not too far around the corner.

Sun's Down, A Little After 10
I Pick Up All My Friends In My Mercedes Benz
Wake Up!(Wake Up) Don't Tell Me It's Just A Dream (Just A Dream)
Cuz When I've Had Enough You'll Hear Me Say
Now Don't You Try To Rain On My
Perfect Day
Nothing's Standing In My Way
On This Perfect Day
Where Nothing Can Go Wrong
It's The Perfect Day

Wednesday 9th June 2004

I was again in central London this afternoon. On the interview trail once more. This occasion being more optimistic than in the past. As I headed back towards the tube station, I stopped to take a phone call on my mobile. I was idly watching the passers by, as I spoke on the phone. Then I saw a familiar face. A face so familiar that it could be part of the family. For we let him in our homes every evening at ten, sharp. For a second, I was star-struck with my mind working overtime, "is that really him?". Then as he came closer and we made eye contact, I knew for sure. I had just traded visual blows with the 'Maverick'. An experience that would not be repeated for some time. Who am I talking about? The answer can be found on my blog entry from Thursday 23rd January 2003. This is not the first time I have met one of the men from Aunty. On Thursday, September 11th, last year I was in Central London. On that occasion, I exchanged glances with the man whom questioned the count of the night. Does that make sense? It will. It will soon.

What do we do when we meet someone new? Someone new, that in physical appearance and demeanor reminds you of an old friend. But what if to complicates matter further, that old flame, is no longer with us? Do not take this as some worldly dilemma, it is just a comment in passing. If the truth be known, I have only had the most shortest of conversations with them, and even then it has been more image than substance. The trivial trade of smiles and introductions. Nothing concrete, nothing significant. Nothing to report. Yet. Give me time.

There are quite a few white rappers out there. The most famous that I can recall are of course Vanilla Ice, to the present day bad boy of hip-hop, Eminem. But there are others! Do you remember the song, 'Informer', with the catchy chorus, "a licky bomb bomb down...". Well that was by the white rapper, Snow. The video is being shown by KISS on their music channel. It was while in a popular hang out for students, on Friday 28th May, that I noticed it playing the background, while talking to my friend Sippy. As we walked down the stairs out into the cool spring evening, I heard him sing along, "Informer...". A song I had to then download, purely for the novelty factor, but also that you always forgot how special it was back in the early 1990s. I should know, it was then sampled by every known bhangra artist of the time and re-worked into many hit songs, that following summer.

I have only burnt one CD album for the car, in the two weeks since I returned to Wycombe. This is quite poor for me. Particularly, as you will recall that I created an album a week, during my time on placement, and there were always at least two new CDs in my car CD changer every week. I suppose the main reason for this is that I have been extremely busy. The second, is that I have not had enough new material available to justify an album. An album that I need to get off the ground as soon as possible is the rock collection of mainly high octane air guitar numbers.

Tuesday 8th June 2004

London, has always been a city of great excitement for me. Mainly because I have only visited it as a tourist, with family or for entertainment purposes. In recent weeks, it has become the venue of work. My perception of the city will change in the coming weeks, as I spend more and more time commuting to our capital for job interviews. The professional atmosphere, that surrounds many places, surrounds London like a thick fog. Even during my visits, I have noticed that there is an underlying urgency with all the people there. Be it on the tube, on the streets or shops. This rush, is actually a great buzz and one of the reasons I really want to work in the City. Do I really need to give any other reasons?

One of my favourite, feel good movies, was on BBC1 last night. Shooting Fish, staring a much more wholesome, natural, dare I say more intellectual, Kate Beckinsale. These were the heady days before the Hollywood machine, got their hands of our starlet. I had seen the movie on Sky back in the days of analogue satellite, and had really enjoyed the classic British comedy and Indie soundtrack. It is one of those movies, that you can watch and as it is so light and easy to absorb, it easily entertains. Just let me dig out some of the songs from the soundtrack.

I am not big into my astronomy, but I like to be aware of any of the big events that take place every few years. Well the transit of Venus across the Sun, is an event that no living human being has ever seen. For the low down on the event, with a full historical background and clock watch of the passage of these heavenly bodies, please check out the Diamond Geezer, who is always armed with the trivial and irrelevant facts.

You know you have important mail, when...

Monday 7th June 2004

Never forget those true heroes of our time. For many, their act of bravery and courage was their last.

Sunday 6th June 2004

The 40th President of the United States, passed away yesterday. A strong symbol of 1980s America. The news was overshadowed, by the 60th anniversary of the D-Day landings. I have been enjoying some of the coverage on the BBC. History is one of my favourite subjects, and the Second World War, is the greatest topic for me. What makes the events more significant to me personally, is that eleven years ago, I was in Normandy with my middle school. I have dug out some photographs, I just need to find the time to scan them in and upload them to the website. There are some interesting photographs, as I have images of Pegasus Bridge. The site of the first moments of liberation on 6th June 1994. I also have an postcard, autographed by Major John Howard, who was in charge of the operation to secure the bridge. That was the location of the celebrations and ceremony yesterday afternoon. Today, it was the time of the great American war cemetery in Coalville. I also have some photographs of this peaceful place, overlooking Omaha beach. The final resting place for some 9,000 US service man. Again, I will try and scan some images in and upload them as soon as I can. For the time being, I recommend you go the fantastic BBC D-Day website.

Let us never forget the price these young men and women paid for us. For our tomorrow they gave their today. We must remain grateful for their sacrifice and pray that never again should a time come, when such great sacrifices have to be made again. As I left the NEC on Saturday afternoon, over a week ago, I headed to the railway station. On my way there, I saw some veterans from the Battle Of Britain seeking small donations for their charity. I gave some money, the little change I had on me, to hear a voice behind me say to these old men, "People quickly forget the great things, ordinary men, like you did for us,". I turned around to find out who had said this, but it was too late, he was gone. I smiled, as I was given a badge, feeling somewhat proud. Proud to know that the sacrifices of others, strangers in a generation nearing their end, have not gone unnoticed or unobserved.

My journey back to Leicester that Saturday evening was via the 330 coach, to Nottingham. When I eventually found the correct coach, (there were two going to Nottingham, but only one stopping at Leicester) there were only a few spaces left. So I grabbed the first seat I could and sat down next to a guy, around my age. He was listening to his CD walkman, and I could hear the distant sound of Vindaloo by Fat Les over his earphones. Instantly my thoughts drifted to Euro 2004. It had completely slipped my mind, that here were on the verge of another classic international tournament. The build up is so different to the World Cup two years ago. Perhaps because it lacks the global appeal. I know certain people who, although have no strong interest in football, will watch the World Cup religiously. When it comes to the European Championships, however, they do not bat an eyelid. Never mind. There loss at the end of the day. So many great players being showcased! However, I really had an urge to discuss England's chances with the passenger sitting next to me. I then made the initial judgment, that he was being highly antisocial and did not want to talk. I promised myself, the moment he stopped listening to his music, I would speak to him. That opportunity came, just as the coach was pulling off the M69 and into Leicester. I soon discovered I was sitting next to Andy Guilder. Someone who again, is making those sacrifices in his own way to help those who have drifted from the righteous path. To my surprised he too keeps his own journal, in the form of his website, AGuilder. I even get a mention, if rather brief during an update last month. My blog is having a major impact in my life even letting new people find out more about my life. I just hope that future brings with it more happiness, not just for me, but for all the new people that have recently walked into my life.

In the past 12 months I have made more friends that I could ever have imagined. Now that I am back in Wycombe, I see a need to reconnect with my old college and schoolfriends. This is not going to be an easy task, but at least I will try and see what sort of reception I get. Maybe even some have been keeping 'tabs' on me via this blog. Then again, knowing my friends, maybe not.

Friday 4th June 2004

A week ago, I was on my PC, applying for some jobs. I was quite pleased with myself having now secured two interviews for next week. The phone rang. It was my Dad. He said I should go down to the NEC for the British Motor Show. My initial reaction, was to decline the offer. I was not in the mood to trek to Birmingham and back, particularly on the train. However, my Dad persuaded me to go, so I looked into the various options of getting there. Train seemed an ideal choice, at first but I decided upon the National Express. The return fare was slightly cheaper than the train option, and it also allowed for me have a look around Birmingham city centre. Something which I had not done, for over two years. At that time, the Bull Ring was still in major development. However, I will discuss that amazing shopping centre, later. So on Saturday morning, I got up early to head over to the NEC. My main aim was to take my digital camera and take as many photos as possible. I just wanted to enjoy my day out and make the most of being able to see some of the most prestigious and expensive cars in one place. When I arrived, the first thing I did got through the entrance, was to head over to the test drive area. There was no queues, well apart for the Subaru Impreza WRX. I got in line for Honda, hoping that the Civic Type-R would be available to test drive. To my disappointment, it was not available, but the closest matching vehicle was the Civic VTEC Sport 1.6. This is basically a Type-R lookalike, without all of the go of it's hot hatch brother! When I headed out to the test circuit, I asked one of the Honda guys, why this decision had me made. It was purely a management decision. Although the Type-R is highly desirable for those in my age group, it lacks general appeal. So the Sport was chosen to appeal to both a younger new driver audience, as well as the petrol heads. My navigator for my journey around the test circuit, was called, Andy. He was very friendly and helpful as he guided me around the circuit. It was basically a car park that had been coned off, and you were only able to get to a top speed of 30 mph as the majority of the time you were weaving in and out of the cones. Just as I am writing this, the post has arrived. Including my Civic Brochure from Honda. I think the Type-R in Nighthawk Black Pearl will do nicely sir!

You may recall that I also have my sights set on the Fiat Stilo Abarth. I enjoyed a full demonstration in the car on Friday 25th April 2003. At the time, I made the comment, that the Honda Civic Type-R had been blown out of the water by the Stilo. Well, I have to say that the Japanese manufacturer has made the come back I had anticipated. The facelift given to the new 2004 model has improved the presence it has on the road. Decisions, decision. What do we go for now? The street hot hatch, which screams out, I've arrived. Or the gentle cruiser, which is much more relaxed and less in your 'face'. I will of course report more, after the test drive of both cars!

Other highlights from the show were of course the usual suspects and some rather unique concepts. I took around 160 photos on the day, but I have cut these down to the best 110 images and uploaded them to an album on the photos page.

Job hunting has been going very well. Much better than expected. If you had told me during my placement that I would have a handful of interviews on my return to Wycombe, I would have laughed at you. It just feels that with every interview the stakes are slightly high, and my nerves further on edge. I am hoping to have a job by July. That is aim, let us hope it becomes a reality.

May has been the most popular blogging month to day on the site. It beats the hold record held by November 2003. It was also the first time I had experimented with comments for all blog entries. My conclusion being that it has been an subtle rather than overwhelming success. My aim will be to have a month, sometime in the future, which has a blog entry for every day for at least 30 days. However, my view is that the entries would become repetitive and somewhat lack the quality of other previous entries. We shall see. I hope to get the blog back up to date, over the weekend. There are still a few things I need to mention from my last week at University.


Monday 31th May 2004

Firstly, I wish to extend my deepest apologises to many of my friends. The last few days, and this holiday weekend just past, have been extremely hectic. I have tried my best to keep in touch with everyone and let them know what is going on. I know this has not always been possible, therefore, I would like to use my blog to make this brief announcement. I am sorry to anyone, who feels I have not been a good friend to them in the past week or so. A friend commented, that I had forgotten all the 'little people'. This is not the case at all. I have not forgotten anyone, it just has been hard to find the time to reply to e-mails, texts and of course e-mails. With this apology, I would subsequently like to add, that I will be making a renewed effort to get in touch with everybody (and I do mean, everybody) over the course of the next few days.

Not been able to spend the amount of time I would have liked on my website today. I am currently going through all the images from the Motor Show. There are 160 in total. I want to bring them down to a reasonable number, and then upload a selection of the best. Edited, cropped and re-sized only eight so far. Hope to have the album added and the current albums updated by the end of the week. But please, don't hold me to that deadline.

So how do I add a final note for Leicester? The city holds so many great memories for me, that it is difficult at times to realise, the significance of the decision to go to the Midlands to study.

Closure is important in all of our lives. It is important to know that there is a need to move on. What is more difficult to grasp is the opportune moment to do so. This will not be my final entry on Leicester, because there is so much more the city holds for the future. Sometimes words are just not enough, and a picture paints the scene, in a more powerful and dramatic fashion. A new day, has come.

Sunday 30th May 2004

As a general rule, I try to blog, as soon after the event as possible. However, you must understand that this is not always possible. This weekend, has been one of those moments. I tend to have a strange blog. When there is nothing of great interest going on, I blog regularly and almost erratically. The moment, my schedule becomes just slightly busy, I find it difficult to find the time to blog. My weekend plans changed dramatically from a quiet weekend, maybe going to the cinema with my housemates. Instead, on Friday, I decided, on the advice or rather encouragement of my Dad, to go to the NEC for The Sunday Times Motor Show Live. I was hoping to convince one of my friends to go, but at such sort notice (around seven hours) I cannot really blamed them.

So, this is just a very quick update on the points I will discuss in my next entry (at some point tomorrow evening, hopefully!)

  • Motor Show Review (including over 120 photos!)
  • BullRing, Birmingham reaction
  • Journey home with a difference
  • Return to Wycombe
  • Job hunting progress
  • As you can see, loads of things to cover and many things for me to deal with offline. Hope to bring you all the latest very very soon.

    Friday 28th May 2004

    My housemate Nav told me that he knew a 'Strickland' back at his secondary school. No relation to the case of the bully, recently in the news. To understand the significance of this comment, you need to go back to my entry from Friday 23rd January 2004. I have not had the pleasure or (discomfort) to know anyone from my favourite childhood movies. Until now, that is. From the instant introduction, my thoughts drifted to pitballs, a sports almanac and of course, manure! Yes, the arch villain from the Back To The Future Trilogy. Perhaps arch villain is too strong a description. George McFly's rival, that sounds better. It is not for me to discuss the major cosmic powers at play when it comes to the mystery of chance events. The more I drift from a skeptic to a believer, that everything happens for a reason. To not be in control of my destiny is a feeling, I hate. But I am beginning to learn that it is choice, not chance - that determines our destiny. Even the most smallest and insignificant decisions you make, can have a paramount consequence later on. Sometimes this decisions are even forced by others. Sippy and I had been sitting on a table in the middle of the hall. Then we were moved towards the back of the hall, when the evening meal was served. We chose a table, thinking little of the chain reaction of events we were just about to start. So Biff and some friends came and sat down on our table. Who knows where the conversation will take us and whether, these trivial introductions will go beyond the few hours of the evening. I try to tell myself I am a good judge of character. But even, I have been proved wrong. Haven't we all? But Biff had little in common with his Hollywood name sake. A comforting thought, he does not want to know how Sibtain reacts when someone calls him, "yellow".

    [Image courtesy of Aaron Aryanpur Caricatures]

    I find it very difficult to control my level of expectations, generally. When there is something around the corner I am looking forward to, I begin to elevate the occasion, far beyond what is deemed necessary. Then, when everything falls apart at the seems, and I found myself inconsolable. Having invested so much hope and great expectation into this something, and when it doesn't go to plan, I feel somewhat disappointed and even cheated that things did not go according to plan.

    One of the more strange events of the evening, was my conversation with a waiter. For a young man in his early twenties, and of Anglo-Saxon heritage, I was rather bemused, when he asked, "Is Raghav playing tonight?". I was then shocked to discover he had a likely for the Urban Asian music scene and wanted to know what other acts were playing. Everyone to their own, and in my own personal nature, I should have been quiet pleased of the social integration taking place between two very different communities. But for some reason, my thoughts drifted back to one of my first nights out in Leicester, at the beginning