Picture Perfect

With the aim to alleviate my boredom dashed, instead, I submit to it and plough through the most boring book in the world. I'm up to page 55, and waiting for the "extremely funny" parts to kick in, but it turns out it's not to be. I selected this book in the airport, waiting for the American entrouge to come through at Heathrow, and so I defend my choice through the fact that I didn't care what book I chose from the dialled down WH Smith's. It was either that, some factual and scientific book about the supernatural (I just wanted light reading) or a suspense-thriller-murder-romance filled book (I just wanted comedy!). 

"A Short History of Tractors in Ukranian" is a title name worthy of Douglas Adams (whom we all, of course, know is the author of the much beloved "Hitchihikers Guide to The Galazy").

For those of you who haven't caught on yet, this book is not actually about a short history of tractors (though they do come into it) and is not written in Ukranian. The reason, perhaps, that I feel this book is so mind-numbingly boring is possibly because it appears to be written by a woman, for a woman. Who cares? I've had fun with this book on the tube. It's amazing how many people think this book is actually written in Ukranian, although the title is in English, and is about tractors, although no one in their right minds would ever buy anything on tractors, unless they were committing suicide. Or were masochists, or both.

Talking of the tube, I was sitting on it today. Not on it so much as in it. The point is, this chap with a stubbly beard, and long-ish waivy-ish hair walks on and sits down next to me. He then looks at me, and sits directly opposite me. He then whips out a camera with the biggest lense I have ever seen in my life on a camera (clearly he's some sort of photographer) and proceeds to sit with it in his lap, taking pictures of me.

Why? For whom or what? Is it the government? If so, is it the British or Israeli one? Have I been implicated in some sort of henious crime? Is it just a sad man's last attempt at happyness? Will he hang the pictures above his bed? Is it just artistic licence?

Whatever the reason, I said nothing to him, though was sorely tempted to.
Instead, I hoisted my newspaper up, covering my face. But then, I thought, what the heck? And dropped it again, and let him take his pictures.

We went to Greenwich today. You know, GMT, the fact that we Brits control the whole time for the whole world and such? Well, it was pretty cool. The American, for all his cleverness (he is quite clever, I say this not in sarcasm), made the smart question as to enquire as to why, if this clock was so accurate (not accurate, it just defines the time for us, so whatever it is, it's right) was it an hour behind our common wrist-watches? As we all know, this is because of daylight saving times, which they have in all countries of the world, except those countries which experience no daylight. And by that, I mean, of course, a cave, on mars. Enough commas for you there? I like to see that the exact expression of my sarcasm comes through clearly when intended. Righty-oh.

We parted ways today too. I sent him off to heathrow. I hope he gets there ok. I accompanied him and his 98 kilos of luggage part of the way.

As for me, I'm off to Spain in a few hours. Finally. The relaxation I crave, after the hours of lazing around the house for a few weeks. Which I assure you, is very hard work. Afterall. In the words of Calvin and Hobbes: There is never enough time to do all the nothing we want.

In my last post, I complained about having a meeting with my mentor from Israel, and no female prospects in sight at all. God must have heard my pleas, and felt somewhat sorry for me, because the very next day saw two things: I have no meeting with my mentor, and now have a girl in sight.

Well, thank Goodness for that! On both counts!

What is interesting, is that the person in question is from Canada. And for those of you who read my blogs, I do wish to move to Canada (amongst others). And finally, things begin to click nicely into place.

Talking of clicking into place, the magazine of the new airsoft gun I bought today holds 23 pellets, has a laser, and a blue light (for the scary dark). I prefer my Desert Eagle one, which I believe is better than this new one. No matter, this new one is pretty cool, and may serve as the gun for those people who don't have one. I played a few airsoft matches today, and won 5, and lost 5. I was up 3-1, and WHOOSH! Those pellets come out from nowhere.

Anyway, the american is coming tomorrow. I have to pick him up, despite never having driven to the airport by myself. But then, I did drive to Jo's home town last year, all on my lonesome, a few times, in fact. Which is further than the airport.

Fun is in the air, and I don't just mean an airsoft pellet whizzing by. I mean this whole post is all very exciting for me, and I simply cannot wait to get things going. 

I've figured out the reason why it's taken the hospital so long to get hold of me: they don't have my phone number. I no longer use the one I gave them...

I shall phone tomorrow.
And for now, take care, children!

Aha! I bet that title caught your attention. What do you mean, you don't care about it? You should.


Anyway, for those of you who have deduced that this blog is quite backwards at times (in fact, that is it's de-facto state, only occassionally does this blog have some inspiring insight into world affairs. And when that happens, no one reads it anyway) may have already taken the liberty of decoding the title by reading it backwards.



No? Well, do it.



That's right, folks. Airsofting. It's the best fun. I've been airsofting away with two others in my backyard (more on my yard later) a few hours on Saturday afternoon, and a few hours this afternoon. Until the other bloke's gun broke. Unfortunatly, the trigger snapped, and so it is actually broken, not jammed. Oh well. We'll buy another one just as cheap tomorrow. And the American doth approach! He appears in the Land of Eng in exactly one day and 14 hours. To complicate issues, my family are away in Spain, and so I am all alone in the house. Well, together with my brother and a friend of mine who is staying here. And who you all know. This means that I have to cook for myself. And up to two others. Usually this would be a massive problem, as I cannot actually cook, and would therefore make a massive mess. This problem is no longer here, as I have no cooking implements to actually cook in, as I found much to my distress this morning. It appears that all the frying pans have been removed from my home. Except one small one. And I do mean small. But no matter! At least I can make eggs and pancakes in that pan. But unfortunately, nothing else.


It appears I'm going to have to make do. Tonight's menu consists of bread and cold meats. This afternoon's lunch was prepared, courtesy of next-door. My breakfast was prepared by me. Two eggs, and tea. Yummy.



But enough! Enough about this! If we're discussing my eggs and tea, it proves two things:


1) I have absolutely nothing to say to you all. This is not peculiar in the least.
2) I am very happy and content. Whilst this is not peculiar, it is not an ideal state for me. Now, now. I am no masochist. What I mean is, I have no girl who I can't get, to be depressed about. Obviously, this shall change in due course.


I had a visitor from Israel today. Isn't that nice? My mentor from college travelled 3,000 miles. Well, not just to see me, but he came to my house anyway. Whilst I couldn't care less, I sense he feels bad about neglecting me in college, and I assume this is why he has made an "appointment" for me to see him. Either way, I know what he'll speak about and say. Heck, I can hear it now....


"you improved a lot over the year..."
"I feel bad for neglecting you in college..." (the source of my mysterious powers of deduction. He has actually said this before)



And so on and so forth. I assume marriage will be a topic of debate, as well as friends (because I didn't make more friends in college, it was assumed I was introverted. Of course, I couldn't care less what people think. But alas, it is actually true, I had only a few friends in college last year. But then, I chose that. So I was happy, until one of those friends, for reasons unknown, left. Shame).

Anyway. I shall go. Oh, for those of you who got this far, I congratulate you. You may give yourself a gold star. Or a pat on the back. Whichever is more convenient for you. What I was really going to say, is that I got "The beatles, 1962-66" and Absolution, by Muse. The first song I ever listened to from Muse was "Thoughts of a Dying Atheist." I think Cat was responsible for that. And it's on this CD. Which is why I got it. From the library, so I didn't buy it. I'm not THAT sad/sentimental/weird/freaky/[insert adjective here. Just insert it, don't tell me about it, I don't want to know].

And with that, kids!
Take care. And be well.

By DJ, an undergraduate student of an English university with the mind of a 5 year old, 9:05am 18/8/2006

The Three Rules of Rule Breaking:

Abuse: It is absolutely required to abuse the rules. This is so necessary, that it is painfully obvious. It is not one of my favourites, however.


Misuse: This is not the same as abuse. Misuse refers to the item(s)/place(s)/situation(s) which have the rules wrapped around them (see abuse for rules). It is crucial to misuse the entity as well, as only through misuse can you say that you have actually and successfully broken any rules whatsoever. It is this which is my favourite. I suppose because this is where you reap the benefits.


Excuse: This is what happens when you're discovered. Of course, one should always keep the possibility in mind that they will be caught. The arms of authority are very long indeed, and if you should be caught in their reletless steely grip unawares, you only magnify your complete guilt. You also magnify your complete idiocy by not only getting caught, but not having a viable excuse for the action/lack of action which you so persued. The only time when you should not use an excuse, is in 99% of all situation when you are caught. This is because you'll feel the full wrath of the said authority, whether or not you actually have an excuse, and if you supply one when you shouldn't, you will magnify your stupidity yet again. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Such is the life of the petty rule-abuser. Therefore, this rule is knowing when to say "my dog ate it" and "I have absolutely no excuse."

Now that you know the three R's (not 'reading, 'riting, and 'rithmacy, but the subject title. You haven't been paying attention! Get out of my classroom!) you may persue your life of rule breaking as you so wish.

But woe to the one who is rumbled, especially if they attempt to cover their tracks, but don't quite succeed. I currently have a friend staying over at my house right now, and what a burdensome burden he's become! More burdensome than a burdening, back-breaking...burden of some sort. Possibly a heavy box. Which I have to carry everywhere with me.

But the problem is not in the actual box, but what this box does when it thinks everyone's asleep. But right now, this box has more troubles: I have discovered what it does when it thinks everyone is asleep. And I have discovered it's tracks too, which they oh-so-dilligently attempted to cover up. I say "discovered" because it was by complete accident, which only enunciates the point that he deserves to be caught and confronted, even though I would have said nothing otherwise. What really gets to me is the repetition of this act. Rest assured, my dear, delicate children. The atrocity shall not be repeated a third time.

And so, to battle this, I present you all with a wad of gum. But also, the solution to the three rules of rule breaking.

Prevent: This is the first job of any authority whatsoever. Prevent the crime from happening again. This is usually done by loud voices filling the room, threats being made, and after many lectures, the authority discovers it has made no difference whatsoever. I therefore approach it differently: merely prevent the opportunity from happening again. This does not mean "be absolute and extreme" but "take measures where possible, so that the function which is being abused has boundries placed around it, but not removed entirely in it's own right, nor the entire entity which holds the function." And just how is this achieved? See below.


Invent: Necessity is the mother of invention. You'll think of something. And if you, like me, have the mind of a 5 year old, you will without a doubt think of something so ingenious that...well, only a 5 year old could think of it.

Just vent: That's right, let out all that anger and steam at the perpetual audacity of this younger generation. Afterall, when you were younger, you had the proper respect for your elders/teachers/property of others. And you'd be luck to get away without the cane, wouldn't you? Yes you would. But it most certainly meant no supper for you that night.

This is best done on a blog, or in one's mind, or to one's spouse or friend. Never at the criminal in question, lest we descend to the

Rules Which Never Work But Are Used Anyway, Everywhere, By Everyone Else, Regardless of Their Position of Authority. But most Notably Parents and Teachers:

Prevent: Whilst this is the only similarity to my rules, it is engaged in an entirely different method here. As I mentioned earlier, this section involves lots of shouting and threats. Of course, this is totally pointless, and is merely the application of "vent" of my rules in an inappropriate situation. And this will never work. Not now, and not in 20 years time. Maybe in 30 though. But until then, it is simply a no-go. All it does is either make the person feel bad whilst the entire process is taking place, and then that feeling is lost exactly 3 seconds after it ends, or in the worse type of criminal, something to laugh about later. Or even worse, something to laugh about right there.

 
Resent: Teach the criminal to resent what they did. Like this will ever happen. Why do you think they did it in the first place, even though they knew it was wrong? Obviously because the benefits outweighed the risk of getting caught. Things like "you're a disgrace!" and "you should be ashamed of yourself!" come into play here. This is just silly. No one will ever think of themselves as a disgrace, or something to be ashamed of, at least in the long term (unless they're very depressed). Mass murderers don't even think of themselves like that. Stalin, without an inkling of a doubt, thought of himself as a good man. Especially as he went to confession all of 5 times in his very long career.


Repent: "And don't ever do it again! If you do, you'll be sorry...!" But isn't the idea to make them sorry now? Despite this, "repent" is utterly useless. Change comes from within, not because someone else is red in the face with screaming at you.  


All of these create what is known as the

Circle of Nastyness:

Crime: Using the three R's, the subject has pulled off the most magnificent crime. Unfortunately for them, they've been caught. Unfortunately for you, you caught them.

Incorrect rules are used: This merely gives you a sore throat. I judge this approach to be 45% effective. Which isn't bad, considering the illogicality of it all.

Crime is repeated: Of course, with a 45% effectiveness rate, the crime will be perpetrated again.

And so the circle continues. If actual preventative measures were used, in my most experienced opinion of rule breaking, then the crime just wouldn't happen again. For example, for teachers, if a kid throws a pencil at someone, don't remove all his pencils. Place him at the front wall, out of range of everyone. Removal of pencils is also a good way to go, but I'm attempting to not use that, as it is not practical or effective with bigger things, such as computers, cars, or cows.

Of course, the only thing I can say with certainty here, are my own rules of rule breaking. They served me well in school. Of course, I was never guilty. And never even caught. But when I was, it was always oh-so-spectacular. The sad thing about some of my crimes in school were that I would be the one to catch myself. They should have employed more 5 year olds. This was usually done by turning myself in. What's the point of doing something brilliant if no one knows about it, or if no one knew it was you, afterall? Lucky for me, I was in a school where most of the teachers responsible for me appreciated cleverness (not the jabbering of the mouth with excuses), and so if I could out-clever them, they would do nothing, or as good as. If I could not, punishment awaited...

The rest of the rules are speculation, excluding the circle of nastyness and the alleged incorrect rules. These rules are designed for teachers, parents, and people who are responsible for others in any way.

In other news, my airsoft gun arrived 2 days ago. I have expended a few hundred BB pellets already, and more shall no doubt follow. More on this later. For now, I must go.

Take care, and happy rule-breaking.

Some conversations. All endings end with my jaw open. 

Me: I'm not good at maths. Don't worry, you'll do better than I ever did.
cousin, aged 8: Really?
Me: Sure!
cousin, aged 8: So how come you know everything?

Friend #1: I think that's really silly.
Me: It's hardly my fault...
Friend #1: You're extremely unreliable.
Me: wha-? Look, I can hardly control things beyond my control...
Friend #1: Yeah, I know, but...you of all people should be able to..

Friend #2: You can't do that!
Me: Erm. Why not? You did it.
Friend #2: Yeah, I know. But you're DJ!

Random person: You seem the quite type.
Me: *smiles politely*
An aquaintance: Yes, he is. But what he does say, you'll want to write down.

These discussions have taken place over the period of a year. As it happens, they are in order, with the most recent first. One of them has even been written about before in this blog, but I wouldn't expect you to realise.

As you can see, there is a constant stream of people feeding my ego. Of course, it all bounces off me, as I pay no attention to anything nice anyone says about me - in fact, I pay no attention to anything anyone says about me at all. And sometimes even to me.

But anyway, I digress. All these people have one thing in common, despite their different ages, relationship to me, and even nationality and geographic location. Yes, they're all male. Make that two things in common. The other thing is, they seem to have set me up to be something all big and clever, high and mighty. I wish I could say these people were just playing around with me, but no, it is not so.

What the dear reader must be wondering is:
1) Am I just currently having an ego trip?
2) If no, are these people just messing with me without me knowing it?
3) If no, what on earth am I complaining about?

The answer to the questions are as follows:
1) no, (2) no, and (3) read on.

The problem is that people expect me to conform to some extremely high standard, of which I am not always capable of filling. I too have my weaknesses. Despite what my little cousin would like to think, I do not know everything. And for that second discussion, I am not capable of producing things which simply are not there. I would like to be, but I'm not. I won't go into any details about anything, of course. However unreasonable it may seem (and this is why I'm ranting here, because it IS unreasonable) I lost credability with this fellow, and he was rather annoyed at me. Yes, this sort of thing happens all the time, to many people, I'm sure. But this happens to me all the time.

The third discussion was something I've written about before, and involves this old friend of mine. I still have absolutely no idea why he stopped being my friend, and I recognise now what a shock it was to me at first. Whilst he had been moving away from me more and more over a large period of time, he acted as though nothing was amiss, and I therefore did not have that same opportunity to disconnect. From my perspective, I had a really good friend, and one day, he simply wasn't my friend anymore.

But anyway, he too held me to an unreasonable standard, and it was this failure to meet it, which he claims is why he cannot be my friend anymore. Of course, this is absolute hogwash: why would someone hang years of friendship on one incident, not even related to themselves, or anyone else, for that matter?

I have personally come to agree with something my mother said about this guy, a few months ago. He may have been a little too close to me, and this scared him.

How do I know this? Everything I ignored because he was my friend, comes to a fresh and a rather bright light right about now. And there is no way I'm telling you what he has done to me, or in some cases, attempted to do.

I think he pushed me away because of these "secret feelings" which he couldn't control. Therefore I had to go.

If this is not the reason, I really have no explanation. And I do not voice this because I feel it is as good as any explanation, or better than none at all, but because I feel it is the one.

This post was going to be a lot more self-pitying, but thankfully, it started to rain about 10 minutes into me writing the blog. And, of course, whenever I feel down, I like to go out into the rain. And so I jogged in a local park until the pouring rain came to a stop. Blew off some steam. Enjoyed the rain. Got wet, probably ill, and in all, felt much happier. 

Vindy, whilst I do not sign up to any band/s inparticular, there were numerous good songs on your song list, and I have to congratulate you for this. There were also some songs which I consider lousy, and I must generally condemn thee for this. Consider yourself both congratulated and condemned. Or condemned and congratulated. Which ever way works best for you...

Arty, I have absolutely nothing to say to you on this occassion. Ok, this may be because I've forgotted what you've said, and simply cannot be bothered to go and check. But it may also be because I agree with you, or am completely neutral to what you've said. I'll leave you to decide which of the three it is.

Cat, yes, I recall I did tell you a bit of the stuff described here, but by no means all of it. The most juicy parts are in my mind, and my therapist tells me I'll be able to block it out with the right amount of concentration for the required period of time.

That's right folks. This post is dedicated to all those shiny new things.

It's almost my 20th birthday, and this past year has been rather...interesting. And there are a whole lot of new things on the horizon. These new steps dictate how my life will be led for the next 100 years and 3 months (that's right, my plan, as you should all know, is to live to be 120 years of age), it is a step - or steps - of such groundbreaking importance, I have dedicated a whole post to it.

I'm getting a new e-mail address.
Hey, I didn't say the accumulation of the past 20 years of my life would be glamorous, did I?

But worry not! That's not all.
I have also placed an order for this gun. Ok, so whilst my official line is that guns are bad and dangerous, and you should never, ever buy them, this opinion does not extend to airsoft guns, or paintball guns (as long as you have the right safety stuff). Yes, my dear children, I have convinced a friend to buy an airsoft gun with me. This will give us the chance to actually shoot each other, as well as targets and what-not. Of course, the whole toy-gun thing is rather complex in England. But there is one basic rule to remember: If you venture out into public with a toy-gun/replica in sight, you most probably will be shot through the head. Considering the armed response team's response is pretty quick, I give the person upto but not including 3 minutes to live from the first phone call placed by a member of the public.

Considering the terrorist threats, perhaps now is not the best time to invest in an airsoft gun. But nontheless, I have.

Also new, is my blog. No, not this one. But I am creating a new blog, also to be called pictureperfect, but with my own domain name. Of course, this is subject to my being bothered, and it's not looking good. I'm almost finished, I just couldn't be bothered getting/making/researching a calendar for the new blog. Everything else is up though. The domain name, the templates, the "add your comments" stuff, all of it. Just the one little calendar evades me. It may be that it shan't even exist. The horror, I know.

Also new, is my new cell-phone number. Staying one step ahead of the assorted stalkers, murderers and phone companies, I have changed to a cheaper rate plan, and my number has also changed. So, to all those who have my number, sorry. You don't anymore.

Whilst I could have kept my old number, I didn't for several reasons. First and foremost, I wanted to be able to change back to my original plan with my original provider at a moments notice. This means I didn't want to pay to change have a new plan and the same number, then pay again if I wanted to change back. Smart, no?

But also because I feel it will be a good change: a change from the old friends, some of whom have fallen out of contact with me, some of whom have let me down. A new number, a new image. Ok, not really, but it's a psychological thing. I suppose the real secondary reason is I just want to make sure I don't have to speak to a certain old friend of mine ever again.

And talking of friends, I had an amazing BBQ the other day. It was meant to be a small thing with a disposable BBQ and a few friends, but turned into a massive family affair and a few more friends (it always does). Instead of hosting for 4 people, including myself, the actual total was closer to 15. Friend-X was not invited. Someone told me he may have been hurt by this. I don't think he is. He has a knack of not letting anything bother him, ever. Ok, so he wakes up after 3 weeks or so and complains he made a giant mistake which can no longer be reversed. I know this as I was once the one he would complain to. But now I am probably set to be the giant mistake.

Whilst I try not to care - and for the main part succeed - I still feel a little saddened that there is someone who I am actually cut-off from. And who I am cutting off. It's like being unable to access something. And for me, this is bad. Becase I realise that I like having as many options availible to myself. That's one reason why I devoted days of research to the medical thing, for example. Of course, it turned out to be untenable, just like some old friends.

And now, I feel I have a weight lifted off my chest.
By now!

It's about 2:00am here in the UK, and I've just finished watching a film called "The Great Raid" which, by the way, is a good film. Not much by way of action until the end, but quite good nontheless.

And so, after taking my friend back to his house and the film back to the shop, I came to check my e-mail, as one does. And what do my eyes rest on, if not for 5, new, juicy e-mails? All of it spam.
This is not the first time it has happened either. 

My question is, however, just whom sends these spam messages?
Assuming there is human input somewhere along the line, someone is actually paid a wage to obtain these e-mail addresses, and then spam them. Every day. Of course, it could be on auto-spam, and the sad low-life is paid a wage just to obtain and input the addresses.

But no matter. Let us examine just what the contents of the e-mail is, without actually opening any of it up.

The first spam is from HP Home & Office. Despite the fact that I have never bought an HP product in my life, the company sees fit to send me e-mails once a week, about more of their products I don't have any intention of ever looking at, let alone wilfully paying money for them. I have never opened an e-mail from them once, in the years and years they have been sending them to me.

       Despite this, I have started to grow fond of the weekly HP e-mail, to the extent that I feel unfulfilled if I haven't seen and deleted one. I actually seek them out, and delete it individually.

Although not present at this time, I get similar e-mails from paypal, e-bay, and various other companies I may have signed up to once before, with various catchy "subject" titles. I believe I have opened two e-bay circulars, ever. The first was last year, about Christmas time. The second was arounf February 14th, with the caption: "[my e-bay screen name] will you marry me?"
Whilst I knew that around 154 million other e-bay users had received the exact same e-mail, I just laughed and was so curious as to what they could have possibly put inside an e-mail like that, that I had to open it. And I have to say, the effort that it took to open it, wasn't worth it.

Today, I look upon the other 4 e-mails.
One is something boring and very shady, and is about mortgage rates. But it's the rest which is really interesting.

The first is from "WebPharmacy" and is attempting to persuade me to buy all my medicines online. A very risky practise in the first instance, this doesn't pose any interest to me whatsoever.

The second is also from a web pharmacy, obviously the same one. And this time, they have "receive Viagra with all orders."
Just what a 19-year-old fit and trim male would do with viagra, aside from put it in his friend's drink as a laugh, I really don't know. Obviously this company doesn't discriminate.

    But all orders? What if someone was ordering pills to slow the rate of their heart? Viagra wouldn't really help there now, would it?
Or what if someone was ordering something for thrush? Again, viagra isn't exactly the most helpful item with that order.

The best would be some sort of testosterone reduction meds, or castration-related pills (for the pain, obviously). And so just how indiscriminate this company is, is an example to PC people everywhere.

The next e-mail came to me with an interesting proposition. Now, you know how I don't like to mention anything until it's solid, but this is a pretty good idea. Apparantly, I too can "enjoy the confidence" of not only "more," but "more explosive" ejaculations.

It's not as if I traipse around the net looking at porn, let alone signing up my e-mail address with it. So why do I get these e-mails?

    Forget that question.
Why don't I sign other people's e-mail addresses up with weird porn fettishes? And why haven't I thought of doing this to some individuals before?

And so I pose you all with a poll:

Is it moral to sign up other people's e-mail addresses with weird porn?
Whatever the outcome, I'll still send it, but I do like to get the views and opinions of my readers, if only to discard them afterwards.

Cheery-o!

My 1-and-a-half year old niece is at my house right now, and just called me a "funny bunny." This is in addition to referring to her mother as "mummy darling."

The height of cuteness, and totally warranting a post. 

I am quite pleased to say that I have heard back from the local hospital, and they gave me more forms to fill out, send back, get approved, re-approved, signed, co-signed, lost, inquired into, found, lost again, and then burried in the mountains of paperwork which is the National Health Service. All industries have a by-product (unless it's 100% efficient, which I doubt anything is in this day and age), some useful (petrolium has petrolium jelly, for example) and some of them useless. The NHS' by-product is paperwork.


I have a theory that if paperwork were removed from hospitals, the very fabric of hospitals would become undone. Indeed, this ties in with my theory that several top London hospitals are made entirely out of paper work.


But enough about these theories of mine.
What I came here today to tell you about is that I am very pleased to be - hopefully - working in this hospital. Whilst I can work - almost - anywhere (subject to criminal checks and such. Oh, I'll pass them...muahaha!), I have applied to be considered for the following, especially:


A post-op cataract ward. This will be filled with elderly people, no doubt. But I chose this as it offers the best opportunity in a hopital to interact with patients, which is what I'm really after.


A cancer ward. Indeed, a sad place to be. People here await bone-marrow transplants and other such cancer-related treatments. Pretty depressing, isn't it?


The children's play centre. Another depressing place to be. Not only because I actually agreed to look after children (what was I thinking?) but because those said children will also have possibly life-threatening illnesses.
I remember this play centre in the exact same hospital 15 years ago. I've never revisited it since. It was rubbish. And a great dissapointment, because they told me I'd be going to my OWN school. Yes, kids, they lied to me. The real reason I applied for this job, is to change the destiny and course of the playroom...no longer shall children be sad in it...MUAHAHA!

Ok, really.
The last ward is a post-nat ward. I swear I did not apply to this just because the form said you had to be 18+ years to apply. And I swear the fact that the words "females only" were absent never came into it. Come on! This is the best place in all the hospital to work! Babies! Happyness of new mothers! Forget the screaming and torture of a few minutes ago, this is the only place besides the discharge lounge which is actually happy! Working with cataracts and cancer all day, it would be a relief to be able to come into this ward, and chat with the parents, and watch the newborns...



But enough of that.
As you can see, yes, I am very happy and excited about the whole thing. I just hope they don't ask me to use my computer skills for anything (it's unlucky for me that they're short of computer people bearing my qualifications. I checked on the "non-medical jobs" part of their website), as this means I'd be stuck behind a computer. Of course, this is not something I actually have to be afraid of....


And so my first 6 months of the year is looking pretty good. I say this, because I have discovered that I'm the only male in my community between the ages of 18-21 to be in London. Oh, there is one other. I used to be his friend, in fact, but lost touch a few years back. Maybe I should call him. He's going to UCL and I to LSE, so we may be forced to fight each other in the streets, for a final showdown on whose university is better (mine is, muahaha).


But aside from this possibility, between seeing patients and university, my social life seems like it's going to revolve around my as of yet un-bought tamagotchi. I'm gearing up for a very boring year. I also need a job which actually pays, in addition to my hospital one. This will take up more of my time, thankfully, whilst generating money. I expect by the end of this year to be a complete moronic drone. Who knows? Maybe I'll have a whole family of tamagotchi's by then. Maybe I'll actually forget how to interact with humans, and I'll be attempting to feed them, play with them and otherwise interact with them digitally! Oh. Wait. I already do that here. And sometimes on MSN. Gah.



In other news, I wish to remove myself from the UK, even Europe, ASAP. 3 years ago, Anti-semitism in europe had increased to the same levels as that of the 1930's. Now, with Israel's retaliation in Lebanon, matters are made worse, as the general public vent their frustration with the political climate on every-day Jews.

The only reason I stay in London as is, is because my family is here. Of course, this is hopefully going to change. More Jewish people have left the UK this year, than any other year since Cromwell allowed the Jews re-entry into the UK about 400 years or so ago. There are around 250,000 Jewish in the whole of the UK, and 1.4 million in France. As the UK holds the second greatest concentration of Jews in Europe, communities elsewhere are obviously negligeable in numbers. That makes under 2 million Jews throughout Europe, and they are quickly leaving.


Obviously, Israel is a popular choice for most, despite hostilities. For me, however, it would be impossible to earn financial stability in Israel, and therefore my communities of possible emmigration would be to the following places: Canada, Australia, and the USA (last on my list, and only the state of California. Not because you live there arty, but because it has always appeared to me as far more relaxed than the eastern side).

Canada is a nice place, with the only draw-back being the extremes of weather, and that really isn't an issue for me.


Australia is actually my first choice at the moment. It's a large country, has a small population, and is economically secure. The two drawbacks of this country, is that it's so far away from the rest of the western world (but you hardly notice that when you're actually there :p) and that there are thousands of nasty animals 1/10th of the size of a grown man, which can eat you entirely with one bite.

California is the only state in the USA I would live in [Perhaps New Hampshire would be a nicer place to live, hehe]. Of course, they benefit from the sun, the sea and wine. There are, however, drawbacks. And I'm not talking of the fact that arty lives there. No. Instead, I speak of the droughts and forest fires. And the fact that old Arny is governor.

The northern Americas were inhabited for the very reasons I wish to go there (religious persecution), which is an interesting twist on things. Australia was inhabited because England wanted to get rid of all criminals...

The rest of my family are, of course, looking into property in Israel. I visited a few on their behalf, in fact, whilst I was there. Even for myself, Israel is my final destination.

 In retrospect, this may seem a little strange to someone reading this. Surely a bit of name calling shouldn't be enough for entire communities to pick itself up and move elsewhere?
Obviously, it is considerably more than this. I haven't mentioned a few things thus far.


       Aside from the burnings of synagogues and constant break-ins to Jewish populated schools, which happily target only buildings (things must be grim if this is described as "happily"), and aside from the recently increased robberies of Jewish houses and muggings of Jewish people on the streets, there is an actual increase of violent crimes. I speak of rape and murder.

Indeed, things are such that the Jewish community has it's own task-force of private security trusts, which are entire organisations comprising of both paid employees and volunteers, entrusted with protecting my community.

The eldest of these was, I quote "[dates] back to the Jewish defence organisations formed in the 1930s to combat Oswald Mosley and his followers."

Whilst the streets in my local community are hardly filled with burning buildings, lootings, rapists and murderers, these crimes shouldn't be as common as they are. Special forces outside of the police force shouldn't have a need to exist, and they do. Come to think of it, we even have our own ambulance service (whose response time is much better than that of the conventional ambulances).

Yes, things are grim and getting worse.
The Chief Rabbi of France (A Chief Rabbi is the representative of the Jews in a particular country, and the principal liason with the home government) issued a statement to the effect that France is now considered so dangerous, it is considered a biblical prohibition of risking one's life, to stay there. French Jews have been emmigrating en-masse for about two years prior to this statement. The Chief Rabbi of England and the Commonwealth has remained silent on the matter of British Jewry, but I expect him to make a similar statement soon. At any rate, The Chief Rabbi of Israel has "advised" English Jewry to move out as well.

The fact that an English Jew such as myself is regarded as a foreigner is no help either. Of course, Israel was only formed very recently, compared to the 400 years or so of a Jewish community in England from the time of Cromwell, and before the expulsion in 1290, there were significant Jewish communities since Roman times. Indeed, Coucy (a province in France once under English rule) was even once granted to a Rabbi (for services rendered to the throne. He is known as "Rabbi Moses of Coucy") by King Richard the "lion-hearted" (he saved the king's life, I believe).

The fact is, that the relative tolerance which the majority of the English people have shown the Jewish community has come to an end. It is time to move on.

After initial conversation with the admissions office in Kings, it will be impossible for me to attend before my law degree - considering I do not wish to incur the considerable expense (or take the time and effort) to complete two degrees, I shall stick with law.

But just what type of law?
Mergers and aquisitions is out (too hard). As is criminal law (too scary). As is property law (too boring).

**Slight interuption**
Looking at all those "too's" up there, it struck me that the word "too" was rather odd. So I answer.com'ed it. Or rather, google'd it, then clicked that underlined "too" in the top right corner of the screen. It told me what I needed to know. But what I found rather interesting - and funny - at 1:15am, is the adverts at the bottom of the screen. I quote:

 Too
Buy Too with free delivery over £20 at Tesco.
www.tesco.com/books/

Yes! You too, can buy Too with free delivery over £20 at Tesco's! Clicking the link will get you to an "Unexpected error" - even though I expected it, and now I've told you, you also doubtless expect it, it is nontheless, an "unexpected error."

**end of slight interuption**

I am considering Divorce law. I do not believe in divorce as used by people today (by "people" I mean the west) but neither do I not believe in it to the extent that I think it shouldn't be used: as the wise Solomon said, everything has it's time and place. And if it's neither the time nor the place...well...it's just silly, isn't it?

This brings me nicely to the main point which I would like to dwell on just about now. That is not, however, Acute Poststreptococcal Glomerulonephritis, which is what I will actually speak about. This sordid and seemingly complex to pronounce name is, for the less medically inclined, a disease. It is something which I suffered from, was discovered with the outbreak of scarlet feaver in the 1800's, and is essentially the breakdown of the kidneys and liver. Two things you don't want to lose. Needless to say, I was once quite ill. The scary thing was, I didn't even know it. It wasn't painful; I never felt a thing. And yet it could have killed me. The biggest inconvenience was a 2 week hospital stay, and a needle stuck in my hand for much of that time.

Whilst I'm sure you have no idea why I'm telling you all this - and if you do, you're either lying, or really, really clever - I will come even with you now:

Time. We don't have it.
Life is far too short for having regrets. It's far too short to be unhappy.

When one window closes, run to the next. Therefore the means we choose to our ends are unimportant (as long as it's clean and legal!), and we must remember to live life, to be alive...for the sad fact of the matter is, not everyone has that chance. Be it a 5 year old with a practically unnoticeable but deathly illness, or someone who was cut off through their own depressions or unhappyness.

I suppose that's all I have to say at this late hour. How much I'll regret later waits to be seen.
------------

Responses:

Arty: There's no shame in admitting I'm the only reason you downloaded MSN!

Cat: That's life. You could be watching for most of the time, and nothing seems to change: but when you blink (or in your case, neglect to read my poor postings for a while) everything has suddenly changed!

Shan: Yes, my life has radically been changed - I shall now pursue the course I always was going to, since I chose to study history over chemistry about 5 years ago. I have agreed, however, for better or worse, to work for 6 months and 3 hours a day, as opposed to the 3 months and 2 hours a week for my local hospital. All for free. That's right, children, do the math: a staggering 504 hours, up from 24. That's an increase of 480 hours. A stunning percentage increase.

Oh, and the actual reason of this post: No! Ted the lawyer is NOT cute. He is a balding, 40-something year old man in both real life and the film. His severe lack of confidence as well as personality is not something to aspire to! Eurgh.

Now Dr. Elliot Reed....She's pretty. As are most of the women on TV....