As I was wandering around Oxford in my lunch hour, stretching my bony legs and dodging the raindrops, two things made me smile. They were little things, so little that on other days I may not even have noticed them, but today was clearly a day for finding amusement in everything.
First, I walked past a middle aged couple who were standing in the street huddled under an umbrella, straining their heads inwards to keep dry. The woman had a mobile phone pressed to her ear, her eyes squinting in that way they involuntarily do when you're caught in a downpour.
What crucial conversation could have caused these people to stand in the rain and focus intently on the words emanating from their phone, while others hurried by into shops and warmth? As the cascading precipitation bounced around them, I heard the woman say, "If you need kitchen towel it's in the cleaning closet."
Then, a few moments later, I ran into my favourite book shop (I'm a librarian, you know) and discovered another source of mild amusement. On a display table by the door, the Labour and Conservative party manifestos sat happily next to a small book titled On bullshit. I applaud you, Blackwells, because that was surely deliberate.
Sometimes, its the small things that make your day. Which is good, because the big things don't some along that often.
life|humor|anecdotes|elections
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Monday, April 25, 2005
Let's communicate
The way we communicate has changed so much in such a very short time. Here I am blogging, tapping out my thoughts for the whole world (all two of you) to see, while simultaneously trying to communicate with my sibling via picture message. Ninety per cent of my communication at work takes place via email.
Fifteen years ago I'd never heard of the internet and my Dad was the envy of many with a mobile phone the size of several bricks. Try sticking that in your handbag. Or anywhere else for that matter.
Five years ago blogging was the domain of technogeeks, internet chatting was decidedly esoteric and there were more people in Britain than mobile phones.
The question is, is all this communication doing us any good? We seem to communicate more these days, but are we communicating better? Are we losing quality for the sake of quantity?
To be honest, I can't tell you. The rapid rise of modern communication technologies has happened parallel to my rise from child to teenager to student to fully fledged working librarian, all stages of life that probably would have been marked by different levels and modes of communication whatever the technology available. There's no way of knowing what my social interaction would be like now without my mobile phone and internet connection, because when I didn't have those things I was a different person with different desires and needs.
I know that I wouldn't be sitting here in my magnolia room writing words that millions (cough, cough) of people all around the world will be able to see within seconds of me writing them if it wasn't for the rapid changes that have taken place in the way we speak to each other. But if the technology wasn't there, would I want to? I have become who I am alongside this technology, and maybe the technology is shaping us as much as we are shaping it.
communication|society|technology|internet
Fifteen years ago I'd never heard of the internet and my Dad was the envy of many with a mobile phone the size of several bricks. Try sticking that in your handbag. Or anywhere else for that matter.
Five years ago blogging was the domain of technogeeks, internet chatting was decidedly esoteric and there were more people in Britain than mobile phones.
The question is, is all this communication doing us any good? We seem to communicate more these days, but are we communicating better? Are we losing quality for the sake of quantity?
To be honest, I can't tell you. The rapid rise of modern communication technologies has happened parallel to my rise from child to teenager to student to fully fledged working librarian, all stages of life that probably would have been marked by different levels and modes of communication whatever the technology available. There's no way of knowing what my social interaction would be like now without my mobile phone and internet connection, because when I didn't have those things I was a different person with different desires and needs.
I know that I wouldn't be sitting here in my magnolia room writing words that millions (cough, cough) of people all around the world will be able to see within seconds of me writing them if it wasn't for the rapid changes that have taken place in the way we speak to each other. But if the technology wasn't there, would I want to? I have become who I am alongside this technology, and maybe the technology is shaping us as much as we are shaping it.
communication|society|technology|internet
Thursday, April 21, 2005
08700130624
I'm a patient person. I like to think I can remain calm, focused and objective when everyone around me is getting chickenheady and throwing things. I don't like to get angry. My mind is an oasis of calm.
Calm, however, is gradually giving way to more negative emotions. To be frank, I don't think my serene manner can last much longer. This librarian's everlasting patience is now being tested on a regular basis by the incessant ringing of my chirpy telephone. Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring.
You might think I'd be happy to have so many people wanting to talk to me. If their sole objective wasn't to sell me something, I would be. However, considering I don't get many real calls on my landline at all, a call once a night from some rival telecom company's chirpiest/miserablist (miserablist? I think I invented a word!) employee reading overenthusiastically/with no enthusiasm at all from a script that means they always have a smart reply to the word No is getting a little ridiculous.
To be honest, I've given up answering the phone. I don't want to waste one more minute of my life saying I'm really not interested, thank you.
What has infuriated me enough to write this post is that the number 08700130624 has phoned me three times tonight. An internet search reveals that this is indeed the devil's number. That's 08700130624. 0870 0130624. If it rings me again I swear I'll... moan a lot. Arrgggh.
telesales|communication|anger|marketing
Calm, however, is gradually giving way to more negative emotions. To be frank, I don't think my serene manner can last much longer. This librarian's everlasting patience is now being tested on a regular basis by the incessant ringing of my chirpy telephone. Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring.
You might think I'd be happy to have so many people wanting to talk to me. If their sole objective wasn't to sell me something, I would be. However, considering I don't get many real calls on my landline at all, a call once a night from some rival telecom company's chirpiest/miserablist (miserablist? I think I invented a word!) employee reading overenthusiastically/with no enthusiasm at all from a script that means they always have a smart reply to the word No is getting a little ridiculous.
To be honest, I've given up answering the phone. I don't want to waste one more minute of my life saying I'm really not interested, thank you.
What has infuriated me enough to write this post is that the number 08700130624 has phoned me three times tonight. An internet search reveals that this is indeed the devil's number. That's 08700130624. 0870 0130624. If it rings me again I swear I'll... moan a lot. Arrgggh.
telesales|communication|anger|marketing
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Run, little seeds
My sweet peas are dying.
This is not an unusual occurance, as my previous posts may have indicated. I thought by planting them out in the garden I was saving them from myself, but alas, they are now no more than barely green, slightly shrivelled shadows of their former selves. I am also now the proud owner of two dead venus flytraps, which was probably a situation predetermined as soon as I got them to the till in B & Q. Ficus is doing good though, as are the other sweet peas that live in my window box.
Still, my lack of green fingers is painfully apparent. The packet of sunflower seeds that has yet to be opened shudders as I type, as the clever seeds realise what awaits them and try to escape. Run, little seeds, run!
Maybe I should just eat them and be done with the killing.
gardening|horticulture|plants|seeds
This is not an unusual occurance, as my previous posts may have indicated. I thought by planting them out in the garden I was saving them from myself, but alas, they are now no more than barely green, slightly shrivelled shadows of their former selves. I am also now the proud owner of two dead venus flytraps, which was probably a situation predetermined as soon as I got them to the till in B & Q. Ficus is doing good though, as are the other sweet peas that live in my window box.
Still, my lack of green fingers is painfully apparent. The packet of sunflower seeds that has yet to be opened shudders as I type, as the clever seeds realise what awaits them and try to escape. Run, little seeds, run!
Maybe I should just eat them and be done with the killing.
gardening|horticulture|plants|seeds
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Building cities
Monday, April 18, 2005
Who should you vote for?
I never intended this blog to be political, and I still don't.
But that doesn't mean I can't mention politics. If you live in the UK, you may have noticed that there's a general election coming up, and that's worth a mention. It's not like this happens every day. If you don't know who to vote for, or even if you think you do, give whoshouldyouvotefor.com a try. You get to say how you feel about different policies, and the results give each party a ranking based on how well they fit your opinions. It may suprise you. Right now I'm trying to solve the terrifying mystery of why the United Kingdom Independence Party aren't right at the bottom of my list. Here's my result:
You should vote: Liberal Democrat
But that doesn't mean I can't mention politics. If you live in the UK, you may have noticed that there's a general election coming up, and that's worth a mention. It's not like this happens every day. If you don't know who to vote for, or even if you think you do, give whoshouldyouvotefor.com a try. You get to say how you feel about different policies, and the results give each party a ranking based on how well they fit your opinions. It may suprise you. Right now I'm trying to solve the terrifying mystery of why the United Kingdom Independence Party aren't right at the bottom of my list. Here's my result:
Who should I vote for?
Your expected outcome:
Liberal DemocratYour actual outcome:
Labour -14  | |
| Conservative -41 | |
 Liberal Democrat 78 | |
| UK Independence Party -7 | |
| Green 33 |
You should vote: Liberal Democrat
The LibDems take a strong stand against tax cuts and a strong one in favour of public services: they would make long-term residential care for the elderly free across the UK, and scrap university tuition fees. They are in favour of a ban on smoking in public places, but would relax laws on cannabis. They propose to change vehicle taxation to be based on usage rather than ownership.
politics|elections|voting|democracy
Sunday, April 17, 2005
White band rejoicing
Best news in the world ever - it looks like my silicon white wrist band might finally be on the way! Yes, that's where I've been for the past ten days, wading through cyberspace trying to find a place that hadn't sold out and didn't crash when I tried to order it... The soul-saving place that took pity on me finally was Traidcraft. Email confirmation has arrived and everything! I'm so excited it's sad. Cleary these things are like goldust, so look busy, get over there and order one while you still can. Show the world you care, like it seems so many people are already. We're great, aren't we?
poverty|charities|compassion|shopping
poverty|charities|compassion|shopping
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Buying bands
My blog has a white band, but I don't. I've been holding out for a silicon one, and they seem to have been sold out for ever. Until yesterday, when I found them finally in stock on the net... only to see the payment system crash and my order fail to complete.
Methinks I'm relying on the internet too much. I bet they have them in Oxfam.
Or maybe I should stop being so fashion conscious (did I just say that about myself?), tie a white rag round my wrist and be done with it. Of course, it doesn't have to be on my wrist - how about a bandana? I could walk around with Make Poverty History emblazoned across my forehead. That'd make people take notice.
poverty|charities|shopping|compassion
Methinks I'm relying on the internet too much. I bet they have them in Oxfam.
Or maybe I should stop being so fashion conscious (did I just say that about myself?), tie a white rag round my wrist and be done with it. Of course, it doesn't have to be on my wrist - how about a bandana? I could walk around with Make Poverty History emblazoned across my forehead. That'd make people take notice.
poverty|charities|shopping|compassion
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
What do I know?
Blogger not working!
Well, it is now, but it wasn't for long enough to drain me of my inspiration, which was an assortment of whimsical thoughts about consciousness and cognition thrown into my head by a book I came across today. I'm a librarian, you know. Lets just say who knows what I don't know.
What I know I do know is that all of my plants survived my ten day absence... so watch them die now I'm back.
Well, when I say all, I mean all except the one that was practically already dead, so it was really a non-plant when I left it. And now even less of one. Just a black tangle of rotting flesh, really.
I know it's dead, because I've seen dead plants before, and even though I've never seen a dead venus flytrap before, the experience is suffiently similar for me to know it's dead. What is it like to see a dead plant for the first time? Did I always know that plants could die? These are the questions we must ponder... these and the more important ones like Where did put that chocolate?
philosophy|cognition|consciousness|plants
Well, it is now, but it wasn't for long enough to drain me of my inspiration, which was an assortment of whimsical thoughts about consciousness and cognition thrown into my head by a book I came across today. I'm a librarian, you know. Lets just say who knows what I don't know.
What I know I do know is that all of my plants survived my ten day absence... so watch them die now I'm back.
Well, when I say all, I mean all except the one that was practically already dead, so it was really a non-plant when I left it. And now even less of one. Just a black tangle of rotting flesh, really.
I know it's dead, because I've seen dead plants before, and even though I've never seen a dead venus flytrap before, the experience is suffiently similar for me to know it's dead. What is it like to see a dead plant for the first time? Did I always know that plants could die? These are the questions we must ponder... these and the more important ones like Where did put that chocolate?
philosophy|cognition|consciousness|plants
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Doomed
I like to grow things. There's something amazing about watching a little piece of nature blossoming under your care.
I like to, but I don't manage to. I kill things.
At the moment I'm killing one Venus Flytrap, watching as the life ebbs slowly from it's yellowing leaves and it's toothy heads wrinkle and die one by one. Another seems to be happily hanging on, which is surely a miracle of biblical proportions. I'm still waiting for my home grown flytraps to germinate - I think I may be waiting a while. Everyday I look for the little points of green poking up their heads, but alas. Come on little seeds, how hard can it be?
On the slightly less exotic side, my baby sweet peas are growing up admirably, apart from the few that are cramped in a tiny propagator with nowhere to go because I ran out of pots and sowed them too soon for them to go outside. They will surely die before long, murderer. Murderer. Say it twice and it loses all meaning.
Of course, I'm going away tomorrow for over a week so all varieties of doomed plants will be relying for water on the funky gel stuff I bought for them, which may or may not work, who knows. I bet Venus won't like it though. I'm fully expecting to come back to a plant graveyard.
Ficus, ficus will survive.
gardening|horticulture|plants|nature
I like to, but I don't manage to. I kill things.
At the moment I'm killing one Venus Flytrap, watching as the life ebbs slowly from it's yellowing leaves and it's toothy heads wrinkle and die one by one. Another seems to be happily hanging on, which is surely a miracle of biblical proportions. I'm still waiting for my home grown flytraps to germinate - I think I may be waiting a while. Everyday I look for the little points of green poking up their heads, but alas. Come on little seeds, how hard can it be?
On the slightly less exotic side, my baby sweet peas are growing up admirably, apart from the few that are cramped in a tiny propagator with nowhere to go because I ran out of pots and sowed them too soon for them to go outside. They will surely die before long, murderer. Murderer. Say it twice and it loses all meaning.
Of course, I'm going away tomorrow for over a week so all varieties of doomed plants will be relying for water on the funky gel stuff I bought for them, which may or may not work, who knows. I bet Venus won't like it though. I'm fully expecting to come back to a plant graveyard.
Ficus, ficus will survive.
gardening|horticulture|plants|nature
Sunday, March 13, 2005
More cake
Has everybody in the world got cake yet? No? I don't know what I think sitting here is going to do about it.
But seriously, the other day someone asked me if I knew that they were going to be raising my taxes to feed Africa, and he said it in such a manner he may as well have asked if I knew they were going to be spending my money on building a giant, diamond studded statue commemorating the invention of cheese. Quite frankly, I can't think of a better place for my money than to help the world's most vulnerable people.
poverty|Africa|charity|taxation
But seriously, the other day someone asked me if I knew that they were going to be raising my taxes to feed Africa, and he said it in such a manner he may as well have asked if I knew they were going to be spending my money on building a giant, diamond studded statue commemorating the invention of cheese. Quite frankly, I can't think of a better place for my money than to help the world's most vulnerable people.
poverty|Africa|charity|taxation
Friday, March 11, 2005
Cake
It's the weekend, and that's a good thing. The week becomes the weekend and work fades into sleep and dreams. What will I dream of? Last night it was cake, lots of cake. Maybe tonight it will be a better world, happiness, and love and kindness flowing indiscriminately between people. Or, it could just be more cake.
And then it will be Monday, weekend dreams will be forgotten, and I'll walk to work in the semi-dark, a cold breeze stinging my morning eyes. The cake will be a distant memory, though I'll still hope to find it again in some distant dream. Everybody will get cake one day.
love|compassion|cake
And then it will be Monday, weekend dreams will be forgotten, and I'll walk to work in the semi-dark, a cold breeze stinging my morning eyes. The cake will be a distant memory, though I'll still hope to find it again in some distant dream. Everybody will get cake one day.
love|compassion|cake
Monday, March 07, 2005
Wearing a white band
I'm finding it hard to write this, mainly because the notion that it is wrong for some people to be suffering in abject poverty while others worry about where their next Rolls Royce is coming from is so blindingly obvious that there are just too many ways to say it. Someone somewhere is starving while I worry about my small but very real craving for hot buttered toast. I sit in my warm room with my shiny computer, while others have no electricity, or education, or shoes. Someone, somewhere, is spending more money on jewellery than others will have in a life time. Some countries have money while others struggle in debt.
What I can do about this, I don't know. What world governments can do about it - a lot. This summer's G8 summit is an opportunity for the world's wealthiest countries to make decisions that will make a difference. Show your support for the Global call to action against poverty campaign by wearing a white band, and let everbody know that this is something we care about.
poverty|politics|G8|debt
What I can do about this, I don't know. What world governments can do about it - a lot. This summer's G8 summit is an opportunity for the world's wealthiest countries to make decisions that will make a difference. Show your support for the Global call to action against poverty campaign by wearing a white band, and let everbody know that this is something we care about.
poverty|politics|G8|debt
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Tomorrow's poverty
I want to blog about making poverty history, but I want to do so eloquently, emotively and in a heartfelt, solemn manner. Unfortunately, I have to be up at 6 am to get to a work jolly that may or may not be jolly, and I'm not sure I even know what 6 am looks like these days. So, my warm bed calls. For now you can look at my handsome white band and I'll wax lyrical about making the world a better place tomorrow. Or sometime soon.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Time to be quick
We're quick to do everything these days. Quick to eat our dripping junk food, quick to speed from one place to another in our various hunks of metal, quick to judge others... all quick. And hasn't the word lost all meaning now? Quick, quick quick quick, quick quick. Quick.
The reason I'm thinking about speed is that I just finished a stressful online experience that involved being very quick indeed. As if booking flights with two different airlines wasn't stressful enough, one of them happily informed me that I had seven minutes to complete my details. Seven minutes to fill in my name (that's a tough one...), address, tepholone (no typo, just sounds better), and, most importantly, payment details. All the while, of course, worrying that I might have got my days mixed up and really I should be boarding a plane this time three weeks from Monday minus two days but only on a public holiday... Seven minutes. And then there's the moment when I realise the site won't take my debit card, so I have to run away to the other side of the room to fetch my credit card, which has been badly hidden out of my immediate reach for money saving purposes. Seven minutes just tick tick ticking away...
But I can be calm now, because I made it. Flights are booked, email confirmations are received, and serenity has returned to my befuddled brain. Yes, in four weeks time, I will be boarding a giant hunk of metal so that I can be several hundred miles away in the quickest time possible. The words of Vin Garbutt are now running through my mind over and over. In our haste, we're laying waste, a beautiful place... For a few seconds there I thought that place was my mind, but it seems to be recovered... for now.
society|haste|internet|stress
The reason I'm thinking about speed is that I just finished a stressful online experience that involved being very quick indeed. As if booking flights with two different airlines wasn't stressful enough, one of them happily informed me that I had seven minutes to complete my details. Seven minutes to fill in my name (that's a tough one...), address, tepholone (no typo, just sounds better), and, most importantly, payment details. All the while, of course, worrying that I might have got my days mixed up and really I should be boarding a plane this time three weeks from Monday minus two days but only on a public holiday... Seven minutes. And then there's the moment when I realise the site won't take my debit card, so I have to run away to the other side of the room to fetch my credit card, which has been badly hidden out of my immediate reach for money saving purposes. Seven minutes just tick tick ticking away...
But I can be calm now, because I made it. Flights are booked, email confirmations are received, and serenity has returned to my befuddled brain. Yes, in four weeks time, I will be boarding a giant hunk of metal so that I can be several hundred miles away in the quickest time possible. The words of Vin Garbutt are now running through my mind over and over. In our haste, we're laying waste, a beautiful place... For a few seconds there I thought that place was my mind, but it seems to be recovered... for now.
society|haste|internet|stress
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