<insert crazy ramblings here>

Sudden realisation: Some people born in the '90s are old enough to drink now.

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I ran into an old friend I haven't seen since University on Regent Street the weekend before last.

We spent about 5 minutes catching up as we walked round to Oxford Street. Realised that we both knew a reasonable chunk of what we'd been up to since Uni via facebook and went our separate ways.

It's kind of sad really. Social networking sites mean you never completely lose touch, so you can never really serendipidously reacquaint.

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Should I get the time I want to write up my thoughts on a couple of books I read recently. I usually don't get around to it, so I'm hoping that putting this here will prod me into action.

Special Topics In Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl
Random Acts of Senseless Violence by Jack Womak

They're sort of related, in odd ways. Both are "written" by teenage girls about a year of their life. Both books change character as the book progresses, so you feel you're not reading the same book you started out with.

They're also very, very different. I don't know if I'd have related them to each other, if I hadn't read them (almost) one after the other,

Anyway, I enjoyed them both, and would recommend them.

Spacetime anomaly in Herne Hill!

Via ruudboy

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According to a Myers-Briggs blog analyser these postings are by an ESFP, aka The Performers type.
Via amuchmoreexotic

In a previous online test I scored as a ENTP, aka Mad Scientist type.

I wonder if it's because I only present a certain part of myself online? Am I deliberately on making posts of a frivolous, entertaining nature? I I being flippant at the expense of my intellectual side?

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On a not entirely unrelated note, this evening I'm going to try and dye my (very dark) hair to blonde for a costume party tomorrow.

I can't get a GP appointment unless it's an emergency (in which case I would go to hospital, surely?) without being registered.

I can't register without filling in some forms, and attending in person. The registration won't be complete until I've had a separate check up. They will let me make an appointment with a GP as soon as I've handed in the forms.

My nearest GP surgery opens almost exactly the latest time I leave the house, and closes at the time I usually get home. They're not open on Saturday. I can't take any time off work to do this this month.

If I slope off work early, I may just have time to grab my passport and a utility bill and register tonight. Then hope they have a late appointment later, and slope off work early again.

If it wasn't for comments I'm not sure I could be bothered.

(No I'm Jason Bourne!)

One of the re-occurring points in the Bourne trilogy is that of disguises[1].

He frequently evades people who are watching out for him by changing the number of people in his party, changing clothes, and gait, and vehicles.

Something mentioned early on is that he's not got a very distinctive face. He's not got any features that particularly jump out at you. Just by changing his appearance slightly, he can change the way that he would appear in people's memories (and thus photofits) quite a lot.

Someone made that comparison to me at the weekend. saying I had a fairly neutral face, which can be changed quite easily.

This isn't helped by the fact that I've never found my "look" as far as hair is concerned. I grew about a foot long pony tail, and then cut off 3 times in my university days.

In the last few months: my hair's gone from fairly short and spiky, to a couple of inches long and with a left hand parting. I've grown a pair of sideburns. The glasses that I only occasionally where have gone from rounded wire frames, to chunky rectangles.

See you around. But you may not see me.

[1] Disclaimer: I'm referring to the Novels. And I've only finished the first two. And a few years ago at that.

It wasn't that I was particularly unfit when I was younger. If anything it was the opposite.

You'd hardly have called me a sporting superstar at school. Lanky sums it up quite well. I wasn't thin because I played a lot of sport (and I certainly wasn't thin because of my diet). I was just blessed with a fast metabolism, a propensity to fidget, and a low tolerance for boredom. If I was walking to school, and didn't have anything better to do I'd often just sprint there. Not to that I was keen to get to class, or was cutting things fine again. Just to save the tedium of the walk.

Now when I'd run as a child, I'd practically float. I'd kick off from a standing start with a little jump forward. Then as each foot came down, I touch the floor with my big toe, start flexing my legs, and be on the upwards bounce by the time the balls of my feet made contact. My heels would never touch the floor. It felt almost as though I was gliding across the ground, and just brushing my feet across it occasionally to remind my hips how high they were supposed to be.

The problem with this sort of impromptu running is that I'd obviously never do stretches afterwards. The reason it felt so easy is that it's not exactly using the muscles fully. It's just pulling out the hamstring like an elastic band, and snapping it back. By the time I left Uni my tendons were so tight, the closest I could get to touching my toes was at least a hand span off the floor. And I have big hands.

A couple of years ago I joined a gym. Primarily to increase my stamina and flexibility, but I wouldn't have said no to losing some weight too. Running on a machine, especially for longish periods of time, is a very diffenrent matter to impromptu sprints. For a one thing treadmills are not long enough for to reach my full leg span. So I learned to jog landing on the balls of my feet. Or even on the heel, and to rotate my foot to take off from the ball. On top of that I was given a set of stretches to specifically loosen the hamstring.

I can once again touch my toes, and anytime I do anything like play squash, or go on my cross trainer, I make sure I sneak in least a quick stretch.

--
Tonight on the way home from the tube, I spotted a bus I could catch to save me walking three stops. I'd not long passed the previous stop and probably didn't stand a chance, but I decided to run for it anyway. And I slipped into the old sprint. And it felt like floating. It was marvelous. The bus was getting away, but I didn't care.

Then a guy at the bus stop stood up and flagged the bus down. As I got there he just smiled, nodded and sat down. It wasn't his bus, but he'd seen that the driver wasn't going to stop, so he'd stopped it for me. I love litte RAoKs like that. They really make my day.

<stream o'consciousness>
Bah, I'm so not going to have time to write up a ZombieCon report this week.

Hmm, maybe I should take time next week and do a proper one and offer it to some fanzines. Or finish up my write up of True Names and G.E.B., and the Cthulhu hat knitting pattern (including lessons learned, rather than the actual one), and the Fan Art for purplecthulhu's story, and print my own' zine. Hmm. Probably wouldn't happen.

Some other LJ posts on ZombieCon 1, 2, 3, and 4. Am I missing any?

I've got about 180 photos and 10 videos to sort through!

Still too busy to write detailed, what I've been up to things. ZombieCon last weekend. Last minute trip to south coast on Monday. A forgotten will-fix-PC-for-food / catch-up on Tuesday. Curry last night. Bosses birthday drinks tonight, probably followed by a trip to the Cock. A Pratchett signing on Saturday (I've given up on the idea of of going to Brighton). Games afternoon on Sunday.

( Detailed ZombieCon timeline )

{Edit}
And another report
{Edit 2}
Forgot to add that the fire alarm sounded once each day, driving all us zombies out into the daylight.
Friday = Smoke machine
Saturday = Very steamy shower
Sunday's cause, unknown.
{Edit 3}
Con report from an infrequent conventioneer.

On Sunday morning, I'd arranged to meet up with a few friends in London.

( Waited for a bit )

( Got told off for wearing an XKCD t-shirt )

( Went to the Imperial War Museum's main hall )

( ... then went into the basement )

( Beer, Batman (no spoilers), Beer )

Woah. That's around a thousand words. I never write that much.

[1]If I ever have a weekend without any plans (not had one free since before Easter) I ought to go down to the Science Museum, and have a go at drawing some of their sketching steam engines.

The tube pulled out of High & I.

I'd given up trying to read the paper. There just wasn't enough room. Even folded in quarters, and held high above the nearest commuter's shoulder. It was rammed in there. I was stuck in the middle of the carriage. There was someone between me and the door, between me and the glass partition, between me and the rear of the carriage, and about three more between me and the ventilation window.

It was hot. And humid. And my waterproof jacket was trapping the heat. So I wriggled a bit and elbowed half a dozen people removing it. Draping it over my left arm, I felt a bit unsteady so grabbed the overhead rail with my right hand, and clutched the paper between my knees.

In fact I was beginning to feel very unsteady. And a little nauseous. I was really grateful for the tiny gusts of cool air that occasionally reached me from the window. I realised I was breathing quite deeply, and loudly through my nose. I decided I was not going to make it to work in one go, and would have to get off at Kings Cross, and sit down for a bit.

But Kings Cross was another few minutes away, and I was really starting to feel the heat. And spots had started swimming in front of my eyes. It was getting harder to catch my breath, and the edges of my vision were stating to go black. I looked at my hand on overhead rail and could see a film of sweat starting to appear. I squatted down on my haunches as that was the closest thing I could do to laying down, and getting the blood back to my head.

The train stopped, and I squeezed past the person by the door, stagered to the benches, sat down and closed my eyes. About 5 or 6 trains later one with some spare seats pulled up, and I got on, and finished travelling into the office.

I haven't had a hangover that bad since new year's. I don't see why it was so bad either. I didn't mix my drinks, stuck to bitters. I had a fair wack of water when I got in, and over 7 hours sleep. Ah well. I feel a bit more human after several cups of coffee, and hot lunch.

1) Used a loud speaker to separate icing sugar from caster sugar.
2) Worked in a Blacksmith's forge.
3) Been in the commentary booth during an England cricket match.

{edit}
Darn, 2's been done. Let's try going high tech.
2) Created an online tool to keep track of site updates.

I've seen a few of these Wordle Clouds today, so here's my effort:

That's 7 months of facebook status updates. I appear to have spent my time eating, drinking, reading, heading out in London, going to Canada, and going Woo!

Sounds about right.