| 4Mb/s... |
[16 Sep 2009|10:53pm] |
|
Is the best our lousy Sky connection can make. Like being in a 3rd world country, but at least it's wireless. On the plus side, we now have HDTV, with more channels of crap than we really know what to do with. The subscription and phone line comes to about £55/month, so it's not exactly cheap. Throw on top of that you have to pay £143/year for your TV license.
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| Hermitage |
[31 Aug 2009|07:42pm] |
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mood |
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 relaxed |
] |
Well it's a bank holiday long weekend here and I've done pretty much nothing. Which is how I like it. Maybe it's a sign of getting old, but the thought of going out and fighting my way through the rampaging hordes at the airport or on the highway as they desperately scramble to get out of London just doesn't appeal to me. I have a private balcony so if the weather is good, I can smoke a cigar and drink a vodka in peace (something which is illegal outside your home now!) and just relax. Not that there's anything else to do, all my friends have scampered off to various corners of Europe for the whole extra day.
I have done something though, I've finished two books and have ordered the replacement to the laptop I am currently typing on from Amazon. So hopefully in a week or so I will be the proud owner of a new Asus-1005HA (the N280) version. This coupled with a course to learn Mandarin should keep me busy in my spare time.
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| Getting out of London: The Chailey Ball |
[30 Jun 2009|11:10pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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mellow |
] |
Every once and a while, I like to get out of London and dress up in black tie and hobnob about at some fancy function. Makes for a great excuse to down some expensive bubbles and get out into the relaxing countryside. When you own your own tux (as I do), getting ready requires almost no preparatory hassle at all.
The Chailey Ball last weekend provided just such an opportunity and I'd had my ticket booked for over a month in advance. As an added bonus, the weather turned out to be fantastic all weekend as well! A friend (and ex work colleague) of mine lives down in Sussex, where a lot of these events are held under marquees in fields. We were staying at his (rather spectacular) house in the country, so we didn't have to bother with a hotel or anything like that.
On Saturday, after a quick 45 minute trip on a rubbish train (for the rip-off price of £25!), Annie and I were picked up by Dan to go back to his place to relax and start a little pre-ball drinks. Being the ever-thoughtful guest, I was packing two bottles of very nice champagne: 1998 Veuve-Cliquot Grande Dame followed up by 2000 Moet & Chandon Grand Vintage. The Grande Dame was absolutely sublime, it went down far too easily. I'm sorry to say that the Moet actually tasted a bit rough (it's not!) after the Grande Dame. I even managed to get a touch of colour from sitting in the English afternoon sun. Yes, I'm that pale these days.
At about 6:30pm, we all got ready in our formal gear, at which point I realised I'd forgotten my dress shirt! I actually had a facepalm moment, as I thought this was going to be a dealbreaker for the night. Fortunately Dan had a white business shirt that was able to be used to fulfil this role. What was surprising was that the shirt fit me, as I'm about 8 inches taller than Dan and quite a bit larger. Crisis averted, we headed off for the short drive to the field where the ball was being held.
The ball was being held under a marquee in the field/back garden of one of the local residents. Old money? Definitely. Credit crunch? Somebody must've forgotten to tell them. The Chailey Ball was being held to raise money for the Chailey school for special children. This was being done through a variety of auctions, some silent (where they just had a sheet for writing your bid on next to the description of the item), as well as 10 larger pieces going in a normal-style auction. There was also a raffle for £10/ticket where you had a 1 in 3 chance of winning a prize. Dan won a book, I wasn't so lucky. Some of the items that they had going were quite interesting (747 flight simulator for a London -> New York flight, day on a yacht), but all were a touch out of my price range. Once the bids in the main auction got underway, I realised just how much I was out of my depth! The most shocking close was when someone paid £900 for a shirt signed by Andy Murray! I often got the feeling that the people bidding didn't actually care too much about what they were bidding for, they just wanted to splash the cash. There was a lot of Old Money there, Annie and myself were the youngest couple there by at least a decade. Still, everyone seemed to be having fun.
They also put on a decent spread at the ball as well. There was an open bar until about 10pm, at which point bottles of Veuve-Cliqot were going for £35 (very reasonable!) and the catering was of a very high standard. I made sure that I didn't eat too much, as my tux was a little tight to begin with...
About the only down side of the entire night was when the taxi company we had booked with forgot to come and pick us up. Even in summer during the few hours that it is dark, it is surprising how cold it can get in the English Countryside. When the cab did finally come (after ringing the controller twice and letting him know exactly what we thought of their service and attention to detail), it was a looong and bumpy ride back home, the champange and food almost making an encore appearance in the back of the cab. All ended well though, with no mishaps.
The morning was a bit of a sorry affair, I found out to my detriment that a night of nothing but bubbles still doesn't get you out of a ringing hangover the next day. Dan looked a little worse for wear, while Annie was her usual chipper self, much to my chagrin. On the way home, we stopped off at a quaint country English Pub to rustle up some Sunday roast, which unfortunately was rather second rate. After that it was onto the second-rate train again, followed by the second-rate subway system to get back to my first-rate apartment after a first-rate weekend.
Yes I know this post makes me sound pompous and pretentious, but it's awfully good fun to do. It's civilised, enjoyable and different, not something that you could easily do in Oz. If you're not abroad to try new things, what are you out for?
I'll see about posting some photos of us in our finery when I get them from Annie and Dan.
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| Vintage Silicon |
[28 Jun 2009|08:40pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 contemplative |
] |
This week, my laptop (upon which I am currently typing this post) turned 6. Laptops age much faster than dogs, so I think mine is about due for a letter from the Queen. Six years ago, I bought it from my brother at a slight discount. Top of the line then, now I wouldn't be able to give it away, but it still fulfils the purpose that I bought it for and I still use it once or twice a week. The amazing thing is that the battery still holds a charge and I can use it for about 50 minutes unplugged. Basic stats on it are:
Brand: Asus
CPU: Pentium 3 M 1500MHz
RAM: 512MB (Upgraded from the original 256MB by yours truly)
Hard Disk: 40Gb, partitioned into two drives (C: - 20GB, D: - 17GB)
Connectivity : 2x USB ports,Infrared (broken now), Firewire, Wireless (802.11b) built in. (which hardly ever works)
Optical: CDRW, DVD combo drive
What I find interesting is that the fundamental functionality I need from a computer hasn't increased significantly in the entire time that I've had my latptop. Sure, webpages now do more and occasionally stretch the processing capacity of it's CPU, but there hasn't been any great improvement in the user interface or killer app that has necessitated upgrading. Windows XP (the OS on here) when fully patched is stable enough (haven't had to rebuild it for 4 years) and isn't so bloated as to slow the system to a crawl.
This is not to say that all is smooth sailing on Old Faithful. As an early model mobile processor (Pentium M3 1500MHz), it puts out plenty of heat, so keeping it on your lap is sometimes frought with danger - the temperature monitor regularly ticks up to 50 deg C or more. Also, it is single core, so if any application maxes out the CPU the response from the rest of the OS becomes sluggish or unresponsive. Maxing the CPU (which isn't hard to do at all) causes the temperature to go up rather rapidly and start the fan, which is loud and would be my major gripe with it. Also, six years of constant heavy use has taken it's toll on the keyboard, with the spacebar becoming warn and decidedly lopsided due to my typing style. The 'e' and 'v' keys occasionally miss strikes, which adds all sorts of fun to writing large posts like this one. Also, it weighs in at a hefty 2.42kg for 14 inches, which is on the heavy side.
Through the use of lighter antivirus programss (Norton - begone!) and switching browsers to Google Chrome, I can ensure that it doesn't run over it's physical memory limit and hence extend it's useful life*. But....the end is in sight for this old workhorse. I have a desktop, so I don't use it as much as I used to. Also, with the introduction of the Netbook format, something with a smaller form factor and more battery life (to be truly) portable is something that I am looking for. Current contenders for the replacement are the Asus Seashell and the Dell Mini 10. They both cost £200-350 new and have more processing grunt than my current lappy! I have money set aside, ready for when I put this current computer out to pasture, but I have to stop looking at the prices on a daily basis - just for my sanity if nothing else!
* Has anyone else noticed what a complete resource hog the new versions of MSN messenger are? Embedded video and 40MB of memory for a chat program. Way to kill a good idea Microsoft.
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| I am happy to say... |
[21 Jun 2009|10:36pm] |
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mood |
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 happy |
] |
Transformers: Revenge of the fallen made me feel 14 all over again. Less romance, more robots fighting, as it should be.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to check the microwave....it might be a transformer!
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| Paying for advice. |
[18 Jun 2009|10:24pm] |
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mood |
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calm |
] |
Well, for the first time, I'm paying for financial advice. And not in the sort that you have to get, like a lawyer or accountant. That I consider more expertise, as it's something I can't do. I'm paying for investment advice, which is strange because making my own investment decisions quite happily for a number of years now. This crash, and the way I've handled it (with it's concurrent losses), has shaken my belief in my own knowledge and way of thinking. Perhaps someone out there can provide a different perspective or has more time/effort to properly research their decisions. Previously I have received investment advice, from the likes of ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) rolinator, but this was provided on the sly and still had a slight "buy" brokerage taint about it (he was a broker analyst at the time).
I have chosen to go with a completely independent investment newsletter, which simply takes an upfront fee, rather than getting a full-service brokerage, who through rolinator's experiences I've learnt have all the conscience and ethics of a crack-addled Real Estate Agent and would happily churn me into the poorhouse. Having someone who has nothing to gain from success except repeat business keeps the relationship honest and ensures that we are both working towards the same goals.
Let's see how it goes...
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| Dead pages. |
[17 Jun 2009|11:08pm] |
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mood |
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thoughtful |
] |
I wonder how much of the user-generated content online is old, unmaintained and forgotten? A quick browse through my LJ friends pages shows that virtually all the content is generated by only about 10% of my FList. Looking through my FList, I see a myriad of journals that have gone neglected for years. Expanding my search outside LJ, I see that most of my non-LJ friends have abandoned their travel journals and other mass-communication efforts. Indeed my own journal has remained dormant for over 6 months at a stretch.
Is it just the sign of a networking site reaching maturity when people abandon it for whatever reason, or is it just a reflection of people's wandering attention spans and general laziness? Will the same fate befall Facebook and Twitter, if it hasn't already?
Reading back makes me a little melancholy sometimes...
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| Fighting fire with fire... |
[15 Jun 2009|09:42pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 annoyed |
] |
Again, it might be news that is a little old, but I'm slack in writing things these days.
Note: I am not a BNP supporter.
Well, it seems that the British National Party (BNP) have secured themselves a few seats in the European Parliament in the elections that swept the nation about a week ago. In a scene eerily reminiscent of One Nation's political emergence (indeed the BNP runs on a similar platform to One Nation), all the mainstream political parties have reacted with shock and horror at this turn of events. Personally, I think the tone and language in condemning them in the politicosphere is a little harsh and somewhat unprofessional, almost as if there was a personal vendetta going on between Nick Griffin (BNP leader) and everyone else at Westminster.
Predictably, all energy has been dedicated to vitriolic outpouring, trying to discredit or just scream down the BNP, rather than introspective navel-gazing and rationalising just how the electorate has felt so disenchanted with all the other pollies that they had to turn to the BNP and their horrid platform of patriotic chest-thumping. Heaven forbid that anyone should even suggest that the electorates responsible are uninformed livestock-botherers who are more interested in the judicious application of root vegetables? (Political suicide if ever there was one.) No! The BNP must be using some sort of mind control, their message of hate becoming mesmerising and hypnotic upon being transported over the airwaves, turning good folk into pitchfork-waving yokels looking to chase every non-Brit into the Channel. It is the duty of every democracy loving person in Britain to prevent their message getting out, which brings me back to the subject of this post...
Nick Griffin held a press conference on the lawn of Westminster, following up from his election to the European Parliament. Word got out and within minutes he was mobbed by protesters, who egged him and forced him to retreat to a nearby car. All lapped up by the waiting press. Later on in the news, they had the jumped-up little twerp who was the "organiser" of this mob in for an interview, where he explained that it was "his duty" to prevent the BNP from getting their message out. Ummm...EXCUSE ME? Let me get this straight, you're preventing a democratically-elected politician from getting their message out through a campaign of harassment and assault? Just because the system which everyone subscribes to doesn't give you the result you want, you want to break the system? Because of your personal preferences, you want to repress the choices made by hundreds of thousands of non-coerced voters? Can anyone smell the hypocrisy here?
By all means, fight the BNP, but do it through public debate and rebuttal, not through strong-arm tactics. Nick Griffin and his ilk have the right to say whatever they want to say, free of interference of little Mussolini's like this idiot on TV. Imagine the response if BNP goons had 86ed the protesters before they lobbed their chicken foetuses.
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| Holding the city to ransom! |
[15 Jun 2009|09:25pm] |
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mood |
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 angry |
] |
Only a few days late..
Although it was written quite a few years ago, this (sound required - NSFW) song perfectly sums up London's opinion of the tube drivers.
For those who haven't been reading the news (indeed if it has made the news, God knows it hardly made the front page of the BBC), last Wednesday and Thursday the Rail and Maritime Union went on strike, effectively shutting down London's transport network and discomfiting around 3.5 million people. What could possibly be worth such a huge disruption?
Asking for a 5% payrise and no compulsory redundancies, in the middle of a recession. This was after rejecting a deal where they would be paid 1.5% and then inflation + 0.5% for 4 years. It's not like tube drivers are getting a raw deal either, £38,000 a year for pushing a button, with a government backed (basically) pension and around 30 days off a year? No wonder there is a 2 year waiting list to get on...
In addition to this, the Union wanted two employees reinstated (jobs for the boys eh?) who were fired for fired for very good causes. One was caught stealing, the other opened the tube doors on the wrong side. Anyone who has ridden on the tube will know how much people lean on the doors and what could result from them opening on the wrong side!
So Bob Crow has cemented himself as the most hated man in London, by throwing the toys out of the pram and making impossible demands on the London council. In the end, the strike solved nothing, as after it ended, negotiations on the pay deal picked up exactly where they left off. And what were all the tube drivers doing after downing tools and making people's lives a misery? They were having a party.
In my opinion, I think that the tube system should be labelled an "essential service" and henceforth prevented from strike action by law. If the tube drivers don't like it and leave en masse I don't think we'll have trouble finding their replacements, given their current compensation. Alone, they estimate that the two day strike cost the economy in the region of £100m. Yeah, they'll really have the cash for your demands now!
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| The wonders of unmotivation. |
[07 Jun 2009|09:58pm] |
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mood |
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 blah |
] |
It's strange, I seem to be going through a serious period of unmotivation. I'm beginning to worry that it may be a product of becoming too comfortable, for the fear and wonder of living in a foreign country is beginning to abate somewhat. Perhaps it is a facet of getting older in the midst of an economic downturn. Everyone thought they were doing great, now not so great, life plans for a lot of people have been put back 12 months or more. With everyone knuckling down for the moment, all that remains is the humdrum of working life, for those of us who have a job.
It's not that things aren't happening in my life, I just don't feel like they are really worth posting to the whole world - people have enough going on without reading the minutiae of my life.
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| Scamtastic! |
[25 Jan 2009|10:51pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 tired |
] |
Well, Istanbul was fantastic, except for one little episode...
Walking down the street to the Turkish bath (as you do), I noticed a guy walked past and dropped a brush. I pointed this out to him, to which he seemed to be very grateful for and picked up, thanking me profusely. He then ushered me into a smaller side street (about 2 steps) and started to polish my sneakers (which I thought was a bit odd at the time), still thanking me and telling me his life's story. Another shoe shine guy came along and started polishing Annie's boots, although she was a bit more hesitant than me about the whole situation. At the end of a few minutes one of the guys stood up and started demanding TRY70 (about £30) for the service! I was going "WTF?!?!" at about this time in my head, but things were moving a bit fast, so I (stupidly) took out my wallet. As I was sorting out my money, the guy reaches in and grabs some notes and quickly pockets them, saying he took about TRY10 and I still owed him. At this point I stopped and told him to show me what notes he took! He showed me that his pockets were empty (he had no doubt palmed the money) and saying that I owed him more. We were having none of it and walked away, thoroughly disgusted. We'd been had to the tune of €100 or so, which while not earth-shattering, sucked a lot of the fun out of the rest of the night.
In my defence, I had woken up at 4:30am that morning to catch a flight to Turkey and this incident happened at around 8pm, so I wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders. Later on, after getting more money, we walked down the same street and another (different) shoe-shine guy walks past and drops his brush. "Hmmmm" I think to myself and continue to walk past. A quick glance over the shoulder confirms the con as I see him slink back to pick up his "dropped" brush.
Aside from that, Turkey was lovely. There's a certain vibe in the air, like you can feel that the populace is happier and goes about it's business with a spring in it's step, which is a definite change to London. It was the off season so all the guides and hospitality staff were all but felating us to make sure we had a good time and to chase our tourist dollars. As far as we could tell, we were the only people in the Blue House Hotel, which is within walking distance of many of Istanbul's attractions and is quite a good hotel in it's own right. We had a fantastic view of the Blue Mosque from our hotel room, I'll see about posting the pics on Facebook soon.
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| Appropriate punishment. |
[04 Jan 2009|01:01pm] |
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mood |
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pissed off |
] |
Dear Livejournal,
My housemate just saved over my game in Fallout 3 that I had been working on for weeks. What punishment is appropriate to be meted out, or should I just suck it up and soldier on?
Yours in annoyance,
Scott
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| Banks and how they love you.... |
[19 Oct 2008|11:44pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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tired |
] |
It seems that I'm still waiting for any part of the RBA's 1% cut to be passed on to my margin loan. Good to see Wayne Swan is keeping the banks honest. Nice to see that the banks aren't completely in cahoots with each other. Repeat after me: "Competition is good!"
As someone who reads far more financial/economic crap than is possibly healthy, I recommend to people that they start deleveraging and/or paying off debt. The upcoming recession is going to be rather pronounced in Oz, with the resources leg of the Australian economy having been kneecapped by a 40% drop in base metals prices. As rolinator suggests (at length, the verbose bastard), cash (or cash-like) is the place to be.
The RBA's recent hatchet-job on interest rates, coupled with the aforementioned crash in commodities has resulted in the AUD going down faster than an Aeroflot DC10. Bad for Australians, not so bad for anyone outside of Oz. I predict that rates will improve (especially against the USD) when a bit of fear & panic leave the market.
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| Finally back online! |
[03 Sep 2008|12:57am] |
|
Yes! I've now got myself set up with mobile broadband! After a few weeks of dialup it such a great feeling to have pages load in a reasonable amount of time! Also, my time online is going to be cut down as I can actually do more than one thing at a time!
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| Life in the slow lane... |
[17 Aug 2008|06:08pm] |
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mood |
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annoyed |
] |
Well it seems like the utter muppets at Tiscali have bollocksed up my account. All I wanted to do was shift the billing from my housemate's name to mine, but obviously that was just too difficult for the poor dears. The result of this is that my account has suddenly been cut off, with them telling me that the only way to get it back is to cancel and then re-sign up. This means I've been reduced to dial-up on my 5yo+ laptop for the next couple of days.
Crap. I'd forgotten how much dial-up sucks. That and the fact that the web now assumes broadband, so pages have naturally grown heavier.
In other news, two people were fired from work on Friday. Slightly worrying in a company of 14... One guy I had lunch with and he was gone 30 minutes later. Needless to say, everyone in the office is walking on eggshells.
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| All alone now... |
[06 Aug 2008|11:31pm] |
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mood |
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contemplative |
] |
Well, for the first time in my life, I'm living completely by myself. I was pretty much forced into this decision by London's crazy rental markets, although I'm not at all unhappy with the result. Actually, I'm in two minds about the whole thing, one half of me is worried that I'll go a little bit strange(er) and eclectic without the daily social interaction that co-habiting with someone provides; the other part of me is looking forward to having somewhere that is completely mine and I can manage it totally to my own ends, without having to consider anyone else. It turns out that staying here (which was initially suggested by the landlord) will work out cheaper than getting a 1 bedroom place closer in! The commute isn't that bad and having a spare bedroom (and loads of storage space!) will more than compensate, I feel.
Chris moved out on the weekend and I'm still finding his stuff hidden around the flat. Nothing important mind you, just little odds & ends overlooked in the final box-heaving dash. It's a bit nostalgic purging the place of his personality, but has to be done if I'm to avoid this feeling of having been left behind while he is off to bigger and brighter things. I envy the structured nature of Chris' life sometimes, the NHS providing a neatly laid out plan for him for the next couple of years. Total freedom can be a scary concept if you have too much of it. What I do wonder though is if I'm doing something wrong, when a student 4 years my junior has twice as much stuff as me. Materialist, not I!
I won't be alone for all that long though. I've already had my first guest stay over (note: get sheets!) and my next guests (who are staying longer) are due to arrive in just under two weeks. I guess I don't mind providing accommodation to people so long as I trust them and they don't take the piss, but most people are good and provide recompense while upholding my faith in humanity.
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| Habitation and other annoyances of modern life. |
[14 Jul 2008|10:25pm] |
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mood |
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annoyed |
] |
Don't be fooled, sexism is alive and well in this day and age. When it comes to applying to move in to a new flat, not being born a professional female gives you all the social advantages of leprosy. Apparently "professional females" are rent-paying robots, whereas "professional males" are flat-destroying juggernauts of drunken irrationality. It normally wouldn't bother me, except that there are so many and are some are just plain obnoxious about the point.
An ironic annoying counterpoint to my own house hunting efforts are the daily calls from my current landlord's estate agent asking if I'm home so people can come around and inspect! NO! I'm out looking for my own bloody accommodation! While I'm willing to be reasonable and be home at set times during the week for you to organise inspections, I am not about to:
a) Pickaxe my social life and own house hunting to death (read be home 4 nights a week) for your inspections.
b) Open my house up to strangers with a 1 hour notice period. We live here, it's not a fucking display home!
Never mind our landlord (normally a nice bloke) is being a tool by having signed an exclusivity agreement with the agent (for better rates) and then trying to place it privately. We nearly ended up in our nuts in a vise on Saturday, with inspections from different sources being literally 30 seconds apart. Sod explaining to someone why they are being jipped out of some money.
I'm on the verge of giving up and renting my own place. If I go for two bedrooms, I shall be posting an add for a housemate involving the tagline "No fat chicks". I think I'm getting too old and obstreperous for constant public interaction.
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| Probation? C'est tout finit! |
[14 Jul 2008|10:19pm] |
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mood |
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calm |
] |
Well today was the last day of my 3 month probation at my new job. It passed so uneventfully that I had to pinch myself to stay awake. I'm happy to say that I think I've got things under control now, after a hectic start. I've got their P&L working and have begun the process of automating some of their back office processes.
What does it mean now that I'm properly permanent? Well, I've got the security of a 3 month notice period, should they want to get rid of me or vice versa. This is quite a comfort to someone who's last company basically dissolved. Although I wonder if 3 months is long enough to find work in this market, I've got a friend who's become a man of travel/leisure because (through no fault of his own) he has been unable to find a role in his chosen profession within Olde London Town.
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