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Posts tagged with "Work"

Good Old Games

Thursday, 11. September 2008, 14:54:41

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Work is getting me down today. Some of my past work has come back to bite me, and is causing some havoc/additional cost getting it sorted. Not entirely my fault but looking back it wasn't the smartest work I've ever done either. :frown:

On the plus side, a new site offering older PC games for download, Good Old Games, has emailed me a link to the non-public, invitation-only beta-test of their new service. There is one in particular I'm looking forward to trying, hopefully for the magical price-point of approx £5 (or less), Freespace 2, but I could see myself purchasing a few more if the service proves easy enough to use. Freespace 2, widely regarded as a true classic of the genre, is a space sim[ulation] in the old style, meaning a joystick is the preferred method of flight control*. This gives me a good excuse to pop in past PC World on my way home tonight for a spot of Retail Therapy.

Current Mood: Wanting to go home. :wait:

*Newer games switched to a mouse-and-keyboard method of flight, easier for the wider populace to get a grasp of but much less authentic. Predictably, we space-smitten die-hards prefer the innuendo-laden Stick of Joy.

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Today sucks

Friday, 8. August 2008, 10:17:48

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:clown:

Fed up with today already and its only ten past eleven. Work is being completely annoying, to the point of boiling frustration, but the thing that's really got me down is that I've upset/pissed off a good friend through my thoughtlessness. All I want to do now is go home and bury my head, preferably under my duvet.

Today sucks. awww

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Mental Mental Chicken Oriental

Thursday, 10. July 2008, 08:01:16

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I vote today’s title as the Most Random and Nonsensical one yet. You’ll agree with me by the end, I promise. Catchy though, huh? Try saying it a few times. :wink:

A very quick one today, my way of saying I'm still alive – I’ve had no time to write any of the vast and elaborate blog entries I’ve wanted to due to my week being so gosh-darned, all-fired busy! Since last Friday I’ve:

  • Looked after my GF when she got ill with one of her horrible Migraines
  • Welcomed Dr’s Lenny and Sarah back to the ‘Deen from their homes in deepest, darkest Wales
  • Finally started the first part of my filming for ‘Capsized’
  • Collecting a pair of new couches from the tiny village of Fyvie, owned by a scary pair of Mad English people (Well, SHE was Mad, and possibly the most annoying woman I've ever met. HE merely had that tragic look of long-suffering tolerance that Husbands get when they're trapped in a marriage with a dominant mad wife...:left:)
  • Spent a day and a half being poorly myself
  • Spent some quality time with Dr Lenny playing the fabulous Ico on his PS2
  • Gone back to work and very much wished I hadn’t bothered; I got humped, to use a phrase I’m particularly fond of...:cry:
  • Bought myself the eye-tearingly gorgeous Unreal Tournament 3, and really enjoyed it despite the predictable fan backlash suggesting it wasn't as good as its predecessors
  • Wined and dined in a Greek restaurant where I fell off a perfectly stable chair startling everyone in the place. Oh yes, and also introducing my friends to my lovely new girlfriend! (They all loved her, naturally :wink:)

Phew! So many stories, so much fun, so much wine...:drunk: ...all of which has left me no time at all to come here and tell you all about any of it! Bah!

So yeah, before I go, I’ll leave you with some info about the filming (couldn’t drop that little gem into the post and run off leaving you with nothing to look at!) You might want to check out Zoffin film’s website – the latest blog entry is about what we did on Sunday. There’s also a gallery of snaps taken by yours truly (meaning none of me, sadly – sorry!)

...and that’s all, folks. See y’all soon!

PS: I appear to have been added as an Opera 'friend' by a pair of Sarahs. If you're quick you can see their pics in the recent visitors box below. Hello, Sarahs! *waves*

13 comments

Under the Lash...

Tuesday, 1. July 2008, 13:58:14

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Work is being a pain this week. A large, unusually complicated order has landed at my feet - around 180 sites all needing careful Planning and documentation for each one made up MANUALLY. I've had some fun redesigning the old documents to match the new equipment specs; had to teach myself a little Macro VBA scripting in Excel but the new version is vastly improved on the old, not that I'm blowing my own trumpet at all...:whistle:

Sadly, all that's left is lots and lots of repetitive filling-in of boxes and sending of emails, which is doing a thorough job of putting my head into coma. I even have a helper, Duncan, but it's doing the exact same thing to him too. The bad news: we're only half-way through! :cry:

I wouldn't mind so much but it's bloody typical of [COMPANY NAME DELETED] leaving everything until the last minute and then expecting me to pull miracles out of various bodily orifices. Judging by the due dates on these things (some of which have passed already!) they've had months to sort this all out but noooooo. God forbid common sense ever becomes a valued business practice! :irked:

Rant over. Thanks for listening while I take the opportunity to enjoy a wee break from the monotony. :coffee:

...no, wait, let me put that cup of coffee down again. I have more ranting to do.

Our office is currently in the throes of choosing which resturant we want to book for our Xmas meal. Yes, you heard that right. For those not used to the ways companies work, bookings for the exceptionally busy month of December are made ridiculously early. The theory is that some companies make provisional bookings in JANUARY, with others catching up as the winter/spring/early summer months go by. We always seem to leave it too late, meaning every JULY we have this nightmarish process of finding a date we can all agree on (Old Marrieds VS the rest of us) and then seeing if there's anyone left in the whole of the city able to take us.

This year, we look like we're going back to the place we had last year, a place called Dizzys. I'm pissed off about this because I seem to be the only one (apart from Suzanne) that thought they did a piss-poor job of hosting us; everyone else seems to have these rose-tinted specs on. "Oh, the food was great!" Well, it was if you could get your elbows away from your sides to manage poking a fork into it. The seating was terribly cramped, but I'm starting to think this is because people at the top end of the table (hint: the management clique) were taking more than the rest of us...!

"And they had that great smoking area outside": I don't smoke, and it was cold. Next? "There was also a wee bar at the back where we all got a seat": Yeah, a better seat than we had at the dinner table!

Oh, and get this: when we arrived at half one they told us they were shutting the kitchen down in half an hour! We all had to hurry our orders through to be sure of getting a meal at all! How is this worthy of a second go??!

I made one suggestion, based upon fond memories I had of a previous year's locale - a place called Howies. I loved my food there, had plenty of room to sit because they'd given us a room to ourselves and not squeezed 14 people into a space designed for 10 MAX, and they supplied free champagne! What could be better? But no, apparently - and you're not going to believe this for a reason - the Xmas pudding fritters "let people down". Okay, xmas pudding covered in batter isn't the most appealing dessert ever. In fact I left that one well alone, but we're seriously discounting a perfectly good choice of venue because of a dessert??? Even if it's on the menu this year - and there's nothing says it will be - ORDER SOMETHING ELSE. :furious:

*squeezes smiley foam stress ball harder than ever before*

PS: I vote this as the first xmas rant of 2008! :yes:

2 comments

Bog Standards

Thursday, 10. April 2008, 15:43:34

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Pet Peeves. I have a Pet Peeeve, and I'd like to share it with you today, not that anyone out there will thank for for the effort.

I work in a building of many floors. My particular floor is comprised of two wings, neatly segregated by a trio of lifts and a pair of toilets: one male, one female. Of all the people that work on our floor - and a very nice floor it is too, tastefully decorated and windowed all the way around:



I, at 32 years of age, am one of the younger denizens. Most are 40+, some even older (we hang our coats on them, helping them keep busy in their dotage).

So why is it, right, why is it that SOMEone hereabouts does not seem capable of flushing a toilet after using it?

:yuck:

Time after time I open a cubicle door to be confronted with either a bowl of yellow/orangey fluid (Still 'sparkling') or, even worse, masses of toilet paper covering a reeking mass of something more solid.

:yuck::yuck::yuck:

*Best Anne Robinson voice*
Who is the two-year-old that has not been potty trained?
Which one of you needs to think seriously about wearing nappies again?
Who the hell uses a toilet these days and doesn't flush!?!?

There's a serious beatdown coming for this person when I find them. :irked:

- - - - - - - -
In lighter news, I've been quiet on the blogging front through no obvious design or intent that I can discern: either I've simply been doing other things, or my life really isn't interesting enough to be committing to the web right now, most likely the latter. The Beard is back, if anyone finds that newsworthy. I doubt I've lost any weight this week (but my paranoias are well documented in these pages already so I shan't go into them again). Mandriva Linux has finally been released, I'll be looking into that on Saturday when I get some time free. And, er, I did some training at work yesterday that was as dull and tedious as could reasonably be expected. I've enjoyed some interesting dreams...oh, and I've been playing a fair few games on the PC lately.

I bought Knights of the Old Repulic 2: The Sith Lords (try saying that mouthful three times fast!)(Er, you really don't have to) and the complete Myst collection. KOTOR is a Star Wars RPG - I get to fulfill my fantasies of being a kick-ass female Jedi while being insulted by Sith (evil Jedi), droids, aliens, crew-members and random Non-Player Characters...while Myst, for the uneducated, is a series of interactive slideshows creatively disguised as interactive entertainment, focusing on story-telling and letting you solve fiendishly difficult puzzles. While much derided in the popular gaming press, the first Myst game sold MILLIONS (and was re-made twice) while the rest, including the Uru spin-offs, have enjoyed a strong cult following ever since. I've played 1, 2 and half of 3 (I gave up on it 'cos it wasn't as good as 1 or 2) so am very much looking forward to games 4 and 5, 5 supposedly being the last ever. For anyone that hasn't tried the Myst games and fancies themselves a bit clever - maybe I'm speaking to anyone out there with a Nintendo DS and Brain Age? - you might find yourselves pleasantly occupied by some time spent in the Myst world(s).

Or not, knowing how fickle some of you lot are.

So there we are. My blog post, and week of my life, in two words: Crappy and Geeky

16 comments

Wot a Week That Woz

Saturday, 12. January 2008, 13:07:33

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Hello all! :smile:

No smutty pics this time around, you'll be glad/sad to see (delete as appropriate). I thought I'd better have a clean post to avoid any further embarrassment. I was at work, you see, innocently writing a comment in my Shoutbox when a colleague passed by from behind me and gleefully told the entire office I was surfing porn sites, an entirely sackable offence. A little bit of thought would have prevented this but as I've had one thousand-and-one distractions this week I don't think I can really be blamed.

I didn't half blush though! :o:

It's been a funny old week, this my first full week back at work since the festive holidays. Some holidays drag on too long and you do start looking forward to the simple rhythms of a working life again, but I hadn't quite reached that stage yet. Coming back for a full week seemed like cruel and unusual punishment.

This feeling wasn't helped by my needing to clear a backlog of overdue orders and emails, while still having to deal with the dozens of fussy little complaints, alterations and issues reported to me on a daily basis. Monday and Tuesday passed without much excitement, Wednesday was horrible – just nasty. Thursday was amazing thanks to the feeling of making real and significant progress at long last, on a number of fronts, while Friday finished on a bit of a sour note. All part and parcel of the working experience, as I'm sure a great number of you can testify.

On the financial side, the agency I work for managed to screw up my pay - and that of my colleagues – for what seems depressingly like the thousandth time. I'm down about £70 this week. It's not a huge problem, I won't incur any bank charges or anything like that, but it is infuriating that after three years those fucking monkeys I work for still can't get a simple thing like pay right. They're supposed to be sorting it, and we've been promised the deficit paid into our accounts shortly (touch wood) but I remain deeply dissatisfied at not being able to rely on them for such a fundamental part of our contractual relationship. I don't suffer incompetence well, and would give anything at this point to part company from such a shower of total imbeciles.

Staying on the subject of incompetence, The Carphone Warehouse have once more failed to reach the lowest of my expectations. Remember back in October (the 7th) I was promised £150 due to their mis-selling me a phone a few months previous? No, I still haven't received their cheque, despite being told it would take only 28 days both on that date AND when I phoned to chase it on the 23rd November. It's on the way now, allegedly - I made damn sure they knew I'd been promised this twice before and wouldn't be happy if the 3rd time was NOT lucky - but it's going to take...you guessed it...another 28 days. :irked: If it fails to arrive this time they'll be cancelling my contract and paying me a lot more than £150 for my inconvenience!

Ok. After all that kvetching I think I should end this post on a much more positive note.

As some of you may know I'm currently rather unhappy with the amount of weight I've put on since entering this sedentary office-based lifestyle 3 years ago. My waist has expanded several inches, I feel tired and heavy all the time, and I'm growing heartily sick of feeling so desperately unfit.

Enter Scottish Slimmers.

After hearing lots of positive word-of-mouth regarding their services locally, and some patient research, I decided to take myself along to a meeting on Thursday night. I had intended to go only to see what I could expect, but ended up joining when an inner voice started screaming at me to stop pissing around and sign up right bloody now (My inner-voice can be quite harsh when it wants to be). Basically, I don't feel I can afford to waste any more time; I have to start losing the weight now, particularly if I want to fit back into my Kilt by my birthday in June. Scottish Slimmers should give me the support I need, and promises an average weight loss of 7 lbs per month (meaning a full stone in two). I aim to lose about two-and-a-half/three stone, so I estimate about 6 months work altogether, depending on my metabolism and other factors beyond my ken, but I'm prepared for a longer haul if needed.

It's a daunting prospect. I'm not good a long term commitments like this but hope the weekly meetings will help keep me on the right path. I need to do this as a long-term platform from which I can launch myself into the next few challenging years of my life. I need to change my habits to a more active mode. I need to learn how to eat properly. There have been lots of little steps over the last 24 months leading up to this, so now is the time to start putting it all together and making the changes that will lead to a happier, more confident, more active me. Hopefully, at long last, I'm going to get this right. :up:

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Priorities

Wednesday, 9. January 2008, 20:50:26

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Zap Branagan Rules! Go Kif!

I love this pic because it describes me perfectly. The bint with the weird eyes would fall into a distant second place to that fine series, no matter what she was apparently offering. "Ssssh. Daddy's watching his show."

Sorry folks, lazy post as I'm still not feeling 100% (although a bottle of Banana Bread Beer has helped a little). I also had a horrible day at work. One of those days where everything went wrong in spectacular fashion, stopping me from getting vital tasks done whose deadline was two five days previous. I managed it, but not without some tears and a period spent gnawing on my keyboard. Thankfully a hasty early exit for another Opticians appointment came to my rescue (my eyes are in good shape but a bit mucus-y. Good to know).

*coughcough* Grrr. Getting fed up with this cold now. :irked: Hope your day was a better one!

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[UPDATE] Hmm. Banana Bread beer doesn't half make you fart...even I'M offended by the smell! :yuck:

7 comments

Dunkeld Trip - Part, The First

Saturday, 22. December 2007, 09:31:33

Every December, my company likes to splash out on a big event, a 'thank you' for the hard work achieved throughout the year. 2005 we spent a night in a hotel in Ballater, on Royal Deeside. Last year was extra-special; we were treated to a meal and wine-tasting in Edinburgh castle! This year almost didn't happen, for some mysterious reason probably to do with cost, but at the last minute it was decided that we would be getting a day and night away in another remote hotel, the Dunkeld Hilton. Hurrah!

The Dunkeld Hilton covers an estate to the North of Dunkeld, over an area bigger than the town itself! It's a country retreat of a purposefully genteel nature, offering outdoor activities such as Clay-pigeon shooting and fishing, although they also sport a range of adrenaline-pumping off-road driving and quad-biking pursuits. It was an exciting prospect!

We left Aberdeen in the sleepy dawn light of 8.30am, laden with bags and eager to escape the cold grey granite, even if only for a 24 hours. The trip took less time than I had imagined, even taking into account the brief breakfast stop at a road-side McDonalds. I took the opportunity to rest my eyes during the trip, letting my mind wander where it wanted, demob happy away from the relentless tyranny of email and phone-calls.

Dunkeld itself was charming, yet barely more than a high street populated by two pubs, a few wee shops for passing tourists and the classic trio of Butcher, Baker and - *gasp* - even a genuine Greengrocer. No garish Tesco or Asda warehouses here, and how much better the town looked because of it! Without any further ado, our coach turned onto the the road leading through the Dunkeld Estate.

Birds of Clay

Our itinerary had been precisely organised: no sooner had we arrived than we were due at first major activity; clay-pigeon shooting. We didn't even have time to check in before we left, simply throwing our luggage into one of the only two people who managed to do so, before dashing back onto the bus and crossing the estate to the rifle ranges. Although I had initially chosen not to partake - guns and I aren't the cosiest of bedfellows - an opening had become available after one member of our office dropped out. I was offered it, and this time gave in to my curiosity. I'd never held a weapon before and felt I owed it to myself, and my neglected Inner Psychopath, to try it at least once.

We were met by a pair of amusingly stereotypical country gents. Barbour jackets, tweed trousers, leather boots, weathered expressions and grand facial hair. They quickly jollied us through some preliminary bureaucracy and passed round some 'ear defense', in the form of cylindrical foam plugs (accompanied by a well-practiced patriarchal ribald concerning the use of these inserts for domestic situations). Much merriment erupted at the presence of two females in our party. Suzanne had bravely volunteered to have a go (our second was merely spectating), which seemed to greatly amuse our two hosts. "Ooh, a lady! Better take the Ladies' gun, then, eh?" said one, eyes twinkling as he pulled a slender twelve-bore rifle from its wall-mount and slipped it into a carry-bag. Ghosts of Royston Vasey filled the ensuing silence.

We trooped along a gravel path until we reached the rifle range, whereupon we received a brief safety lecture and were split into two groups of four (more mention was made of 'the lady', much to Suzanne's growing consternation). It is at this point I must reveal that I was painfully aware of a slight disability I'd given myself...namely coming to the range without wearing my contact lenses. The Keratoconus in my right eye has damaged my vision to such an extent that it genuinely worried me how I'd cope with using it to stare down a barrel at a flying target, especially one no bigger than a spinning bar of soap. But, feeling immensely foolish at my lack of foresight (no pun intended), I chose not to mention this fact to my instructor, hoping to pull off a kind of natural ineptitude. This tactic worked beyond my wildest expectations, as an actual ineptitude manifested shortly after I lifted the rifle to the wrong shoulder.

There had also been some concern amongst us about the 'kick' the rifle would deliver. Reports of bruising had been rife, but I managed my first six shots without much of anything to report in the way of pain. The second six, however, began to deliver little bites of something at the point where what should be my pectoral muscle meets the top of what I laughingly call a bicep. I would later find out I had been gifted three red lines (that are still present as I write this a full day later) but poor Suzanne managed to give herself a large bruise on the top of her right arm, puzzling everyone; according to Suz the gun had been resting nowhere near that part of her arm...

My score? 3 hits out of 26 shots fired. :D None in the first round, causing my instructor some brow-furrowing and a round of polite encouragement from my team-mates. One in the second (a fluke - I'm convinced I closed my eyes as I squeezed the trigger), none in the third, despite some determined extra coaching, and two in the last where I'd finally figured out how to compensate for my awkward eyesight, thus preventing a full-blown collapse of my pride. Suzanne scored 4, and seemed delighted to have bested me (Beaten by a lady, oh the shame!). But I wasn't really bothered; guns are not something I've ever valued highly, and having satisfied my curiosity, I knew I'd probably never be picking up another one. (Sorry, Inner Psychopath: best stick to blades for now, eh?)

Lastly, it was interesting to note that the highest scorers in our group were the ones taking in the highest wage packets, suggesting some sly practising had been occurring whilst communal back was turned (this was of course vigourously denied). My manager was one of the suspects, but I wisely held my tongue, leaving hardier members to lead the charge: I felt a dramatic increase in respect was in order after his worryingly proficient performances behind a loaded rifle...!

Happy and chatty, we walked back the mile or so to the hotel, breath steaming in the crisp winter air, and went in search of a spot of lunch.



Food Porn

After finally checking in we hastened back down to the bar and perused the nearby menu's, hoping to order and eat before we had to leave for the next activity on our itinerary. Suddenly a horrified looking hotel manager came running over to us:
"Are you the ********* party?", he asked.
We nodded, dumbly.
"Oh no no no, you don't need to order-" as if such repugnant practices were solely to deter the peasants that blighted the plush upholstery now and again "-we have a table laid out for you in the dining area, and a buffet lunch prepared. If you'll follow me?"

The buffet was a sumptuous 3-course affair. Aaah, I so rarely get to use that word: "sumptuous". Say it with me. Sumptuous. Good, innit? Like bathing your vocal chords in Asps' milk. You feel classier just hearing the vowels coming from your gob. And we certainly felt classier upon seeing the rare spread they'd laid out for us; smoked salmon: mussels: meats of all variations on the theme of pink: dauphinoise potatoes looking very smart in a fetching herb and cream dressing: cucumber slices and sun-blushed tomato sections lightly drizzled with vinaigrette: Atlantic prawns on a bed of crisp, shredded lettuce: pasta dishes: curried bombay rice...this wasn't just food, this was M&S food!

(And if like me you find that completely genuine advert totally ridiculous, Click HERE and HERE to find people who think the same way!)

Lunch finished quickly, and all but two of our group, yours truly and the inestimable JC (name withheld because it's just too silly to say), dashed off to the hotly-anticipated Quad-biking.

Neither JC or myself had fancied the biking, for our own reasons. Personally I was looking forward to some time by myself to simply relax. The Dunkeld Hilton boasted a gym and pool and I was very much looking forward to a refreshing dip. Lunch needed to settle first, of course, so, heavy with culinary riches, I waddled back to my room and settled in front of the TV. This was when I first began to feel my starved little soul beginning to relax. Snug in my own little space I could feel the tension slowly melting away: no mean feat considering how much of it I'd had to endure for so long! An easy grin crept onto my face as I sat idly flicking through the TV channels. This was precisely what I needed.

After a time, and not finding much of interest on the four basic (read: free) channels, I decided to make a move and see if I couldn't find the swimming pool. Time for some exploring!

Your Leisure is Our Pleasure

Hotels are generally large places, and can be confusing buildings in which to navigate. This one was fairly easy, as long as you kept in mind which floor you were on. After having made my way downstairs looking for a door that was actually upstairs on the floor I started on, I was soon following the distinct tang of pool chlorine through long corridors and various fire-doors. Then, disaster! The stairwell I needed to use was blocked by two boiler-suited men fixing the disabled chair-lift.

"Um, hello?"
"Sorry mate, we're going to be here for ages."
"Ok. Is there another way down, do you know?"

Silence.

'Mm' I thought. I suddenly had the oddest feeling I was in one of those old point-and-click adventure games, like Monkey Island or Simon the Sorceror, and I was the plucky hero blocked from progressing to the next screen by unhelpful - yet memorable - characters. Perhaps I should check my inventory, see if there was an item that could help me solve this particular puzzle...?

Um, no. Perhaps I should stop being silly and go find something else to do. I left, giving up on the swimming for the moment but vowing to at least look for another entrance. I decided on a walk instead.

Armed with my trusty camera I headed along by the river and followed a path into the forest. After growing up in small villages surrounded by forestry, this felt very much like coming home. Cities are all well and good but they're just too sterile for this country boy, and it had been far too long since I'd been taken into nature's embrace like this. I won't go into too much detail here (you can view the pics in my album here), suffice to say it was a wonderfully peaceful and relaxed walk, despite the cold and somewhat austere winter atmosphere.

Oh, and on my way back I found another entrance to the Pool. Outside, on the ground floor. Mental note: always trust your instincts....!

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Join me for part two of this epic tale, where I visit Dunkeld itself and witness an honest-to-gosh 999 emergency response, enjoy a fine dinner with dancing and much merriment, and reveal how it felt to have to leave the next morning!

9 comments