Andorra

Jeez, it's not like they were expected to win, but they could at least try to play football. If I was Andorran I'd be thoroughly ashamed of they way my football team played tonight. All they wanted to do was roll on the floor, wind up England players and frustrate the game. Even when they were losing 2-0 they brought on a defender. Maybe Eriksson is in charge behind the scenes.

Mind the Rat

Did a pointless trip to Wales this weekend. Some would say all trips to Wales are pointless, and I would agree. I guess this trip was doubly pointless then, but more of that later. Have you ever been to the cess pit that is South Wales? If you drive there on the M4 you have the delights of a toll bridge (didn’t bother trying to remember the name) to cross. It’s a nice bridge, just a shame about the destination. Also wryly amusing is that it’s only a toll bridge one way; to leave Wales is free. They are surely missing a trick there; I can’t believe that I actually have to PAY to get into Wales. Surely they’d make more money if it was free to get in, but you had to pay to get out. Wales has an image of being deprived, so what's the first thing that happens on your arrival in the country? “Give me some money.” The toll booths are actually at the far (Welsh) end of the bridge. And they only take cash. And they have no cashpoint, so if you need cash, they stop all the traffic and send you back over the bridge to find a cashpoint, the nearest one being 9 miles away. Breathtaking. Oh, and the first car I saw once over the border had a bumper sticker saying, “I (heart) my rat.” Dear God, please save me from this hellhole.

I went for an ‘International’ conference, with the hope of meeting some international national team members (not sure that makes sense – the people that run the organisation in each country i.e. the national team), in order to talk to them about governance and transparency. It turns out that none of the members there were in any positions of authority at all – they were just a bunch of 18 year olds, albeit 18 year olds from all over Europe. I arrived on Saturday about 6pm, the meal was supposed to start at 8, but eventually got going at 930. You ever been to a ‘formal’ meal? You know the kind; where the chaps dress up in their tuxedos and the ladies wear their best frocks? Whilst I don’t expect a bunch of 18 year olds to be wearing Armani and I would be very surprised if they all possessed dinner suits, but is it unreasonable of me to expect them to make some effort? Since when have jeans been formal? Leather jacket anyone? T-shirt? To be fair, on the whole the girls had made an effort, some of them looking very glamorous, but the guys were just... embarrassing. Some thought that wearing a shirt was enough to be ‘formal’. The more progressive amongst them even ironed theirs. One chap, wearing jeans round his thighs and a grotty leather jacket decided that wearing a trilby would be his nod in the direction of formality. It was quite entertaining seeing him try to keep it at the same jaunty angle all evening.

So, I had a couple of glasses of wine with my meal then went to bed, as there was absolutely no point whatever in wasting any more of my time on this lot. I was in bed by 1130 and up at 9. Then I left. I didn’t make any excuses. Utterly, utterly pointless trip.

I may at some point in the future write something upbeat or amusing but right now I’m kind of bored so you can suffer my rantings.

Moody

I ought to be writing something interesting rather than just whingeing, but well, I’m in the mood for a whinge. Why do people talk bollocks? Why do people say, “I don’t understand; I’m confused dot com” or “I got in last minute dot com”? Perhaps they just want to make sure I don’t invite them to parties.

I’m not sure what to do with my life, professionally at least. Actually, that’s quite reassuring. I only added ‘professionally at least’ to make clear that I’m not contemplating suicide or anything like that, but adding that phrase made me realise that it was just my professional life that I’m unsure about, not my whole life. It’s funny how you get inspiration and insights from the weirdest of places. So, professionally, I’m not sure where to take my life. I’m so bored at my current place, or to be precise, I’m not inspired by my current task list. Spreadsheets about colostomy products can never be that enthralling, but isn’t every job dull? There is a certain altruistic bent to colostomy products; uncool and slightly gross as they are, they make a huge difference in the quality of life for thousands and thousands of people around the globe. It’s nice that I’m helping people, but… well ‘nice’ is the most apt word I can find, and if you have to say ‘nice’ it’s generally better to say nothing. I’d like an exciting job, but am I being unreasonable? Every job is meaningless to us, unless we’re on a labour of love like creating music, or writing a book, or in the case of the aforementioned spreadsheets, one is an ostomate (for such is the term for any one with an ostomy). And an ostomy is somewhat different to an ‘ology’. Don’t confuse the two. You could end up with an unpleasant surprise.

I broke my computer. Or at least, it stopped working. I claim no responsibility for its demise. Salvation is at hand however, as I’ve sent the errant parts back to the supplier and am awaiting their response. The hope is that they will send me replacements, or at the very least tell me how to fix them. It’s quite a pain, especially as I got 2 new games for my birthday (or to be precise 1 for my birthday and one for Christmas – long story) and I’d really like to try them out.

Ever been in one of those moods? You know when people try to cheer you up? Well I’m in one. And people keep trying to cheer me up, buggers. Well I’m not having it. Especially when their idea of cheering me up is to talk about how their central heating doesn’t work. This defiance is good, I can use it. But I’m in one of those moods where… and so it goes on. Humbug.