Sit on my face and tell me that you love me
I'll sit on your face and tell you I love you too
I love to hear you moralize
When I'm between your thighs
You blow me away.
Sit on my face and let my lips embrace you
I'll sit on your face and then I'll love you truly
Life can be fine if we both sixty nine
If we sit on our faces
In all sorts of places
And play till we're blown away.
Google tells me it's Monty Python and that I had the lyrics for line two a bit confused.
What dream land was I in last night? At least it wasn't foolishly brave rabbits. Phew!
31 July, 2006
24 July, 2006
Earth, Wind & Fire - and water.
There used to be an ugly barn-type thing in the field next to our garden. Then something happened in there, and it burned down. The wind blew a little, and it set light to our grass. The Pompiers came and put it all out...it was very exciting.
Seriously, that did happen over the weekend, the end of our garden is now a tourist spot, as the locals all drive past really slowly. To do that, they must drive downa farm track for quarter of a mile, off the main road through the village, that goes in a loop apst some fields. I stood there on Sunday, smiling and waving at them as they went past...they seem to think I'm nuts, but I did get some smiles in return.
As we're in the middle of an agricultural area, the fire crews were very quick to respond, with fields of corn, wheat and vines stretching out for miles around they did not want the fire to get to know them intimately. There hasn't been much rain recently.
I took a load of photos, and stuck some on flickr as a keepsake.
Seriously, that did happen over the weekend, the end of our garden is now a tourist spot, as the locals all drive past really slowly. To do that, they must drive downa farm track for quarter of a mile, off the main road through the village, that goes in a loop apst some fields. I stood there on Sunday, smiling and waving at them as they went past...they seem to think I'm nuts, but I did get some smiles in return.
As we're in the middle of an agricultural area, the fire crews were very quick to respond, with fields of corn, wheat and vines stretching out for miles around they did not want the fire to get to know them intimately. There hasn't been much rain recently.
I took a load of photos, and stuck some on flickr as a keepsake.
18 July, 2006
Disappointment
It's hard to tell what I was most disappointed by on Sunday, but there were quite a few things seemingly fighting for my attention.
Things I wanted to like about being at a Formula 1 Grand Prix. Everything.
Things I liked about being at a Formula 1 Grand Prix race. Not one thing.
The saddest part is, I wasn't expecting it to be a whole heap of entertainment unless something out of the ordinary happened, but even so I was totally underwhelmed by the whole experience.
Two of the things I was looking forward to
1. The sounds of the engines, full out as they reached the end of the pit straight, going down gears as they approached the first corner and accelerating up through the gears as they left the pits. I had heared the previous V10's and a V12 many years ago, and remembered the full, throaty roar building into something almost too painful to listen to, but still with a musicality to it. These days, they just sound like someone's firing a million bolts at a thick steel sheet and you have your ear pressed against it. The engines just made noise, and too much of it. This left me feeling sad and annoyed.
Then there was the moving through the gears. Imagine that sheet steel with bolts being fired at it, and every now and then, there is a pause for a tenth of a second. That's a gear change. That's just plain boring.
There is no glory to these engines, they're just technological marvels. It hurts my soul to listen to them.
2. Something more entertaining than a person being told continuously by the stewards that they could not poke their camera through the safety net. Even that was boring after about the fifth time, with no-one loosing their temper or waving any arms around or going to get a couple of bouncers. He just got sick of being told not to do it and went and sat down. That was the most exciting part of the whole day.
I probably wouldn't have minded if I had been able to just turn up, watch it all happen then leave again, but no...to be part of this whole experience involves queueing for 3 hours on the roads leading up to the circuit (Bernie, sorry, but whatever you say about access to Silverstone, Magny Cours beats it for silliness hands down). The dual carriage motorway ends about 5 miles north of the circuit, turning into a single lane road that wends its way through the country-side, until you turn off it into utter bedlam at the actual circuit itself. The signage is utter crap, with the way to places being pointed out sometimes, and forgotten about others, so you can end up going round a roundabout looking for the next sign to the reception area, but of course, there isn't one. It's pot luck time.
Then there's getting out, which makes the getting in part look thoroughly organised. From arriving 5 miles north of the circuit to being 5 miles away from the circuit took about ten hours, with three of those spent sat in the grandstand watching not very much happen. If I sat down on the floor and shuffled my arse along, I could have done those ten miles in less time and had much more fun doing it.
You may think that I'm bitter about the experience. No, not really. Just disappointed. They have been doing this for a long time now. If I had been doing something for this long, and was this bad at doing it, I would be disappointed with myself. I was slowly loosing my respect for the Formula 1 circus as their in-fighting and petty games leads them to be less interested in the race and more interested in saving face, fleecing the customers and treating their corporate sponsers well. Now, I've moved from "loosing respect" to "gaining contempt", which is a very dangerous positiion for a paying customer to be in. There are other things to do on Sunday afternoons, and I think a lot of people are starting to do them rather than watch F1.
It's disappointing.
Things I wanted to like about being at a Formula 1 Grand Prix. Everything.
Things I liked about being at a Formula 1 Grand Prix race. Not one thing.
The saddest part is, I wasn't expecting it to be a whole heap of entertainment unless something out of the ordinary happened, but even so I was totally underwhelmed by the whole experience.
Two of the things I was looking forward to
1. The sounds of the engines, full out as they reached the end of the pit straight, going down gears as they approached the first corner and accelerating up through the gears as they left the pits. I had heared the previous V10's and a V12 many years ago, and remembered the full, throaty roar building into something almost too painful to listen to, but still with a musicality to it. These days, they just sound like someone's firing a million bolts at a thick steel sheet and you have your ear pressed against it. The engines just made noise, and too much of it. This left me feeling sad and annoyed.
Then there was the moving through the gears. Imagine that sheet steel with bolts being fired at it, and every now and then, there is a pause for a tenth of a second. That's a gear change. That's just plain boring.
There is no glory to these engines, they're just technological marvels. It hurts my soul to listen to them.
2. Something more entertaining than a person being told continuously by the stewards that they could not poke their camera through the safety net. Even that was boring after about the fifth time, with no-one loosing their temper or waving any arms around or going to get a couple of bouncers. He just got sick of being told not to do it and went and sat down. That was the most exciting part of the whole day.
I probably wouldn't have minded if I had been able to just turn up, watch it all happen then leave again, but no...to be part of this whole experience involves queueing for 3 hours on the roads leading up to the circuit (Bernie, sorry, but whatever you say about access to Silverstone, Magny Cours beats it for silliness hands down). The dual carriage motorway ends about 5 miles north of the circuit, turning into a single lane road that wends its way through the country-side, until you turn off it into utter bedlam at the actual circuit itself. The signage is utter crap, with the way to places being pointed out sometimes, and forgotten about others, so you can end up going round a roundabout looking for the next sign to the reception area, but of course, there isn't one. It's pot luck time.
Then there's getting out, which makes the getting in part look thoroughly organised. From arriving 5 miles north of the circuit to being 5 miles away from the circuit took about ten hours, with three of those spent sat in the grandstand watching not very much happen. If I sat down on the floor and shuffled my arse along, I could have done those ten miles in less time and had much more fun doing it.
You may think that I'm bitter about the experience. No, not really. Just disappointed. They have been doing this for a long time now. If I had been doing something for this long, and was this bad at doing it, I would be disappointed with myself. I was slowly loosing my respect for the Formula 1 circus as their in-fighting and petty games leads them to be less interested in the race and more interested in saving face, fleecing the customers and treating their corporate sponsers well. Now, I've moved from "loosing respect" to "gaining contempt", which is a very dangerous positiion for a paying customer to be in. There are other things to do on Sunday afternoons, and I think a lot of people are starting to do them rather than watch F1.
It's disappointing.
14 July, 2006
Normality
Normality returned to my life for a week, but is going away again tomorrow. We spent from Sunday night to Saturday morning in the flat in London, with me commuting by bicycle (my tyres were a bit flat after a month of being ignored) to the office every day.
Off to Paris for the night tomorrow, then Magny Cours for the French GP (first time I've watched one) and then we re-enter our alternative reality, hopefuly until the end of August.
Things of note? I just bought my first SLR, with the vain hope of learning a few things that will mean I can take some photos that people instantly recognise as not just "snapshots". I'm sure I'll master some of the technical side of it, but must wait and see if the creativity in me finds a hole big enough to sneek out of into the world at large.
This thingy on the internets was supposed to be one such hole. I'm not sure if it's managed to be that yet.
Anyway, maybe I'll post a shot or two up here when the mood, courage level, stupidity and belief in one of them manage to synchronise. then again, maybe I'll just put a shot a day up and they'll all be crap. I had the idea of producing a total self portrait (no, not just a nude), showing every part of my body accesible to the outside world. May take some creativity just to be able to manage it. It would be a series of photos, rather than one.
And there was me talking about normality. Aren't you glad you don't have to put up with that every day? I certainly am.
Off to Paris for the night tomorrow, then Magny Cours for the French GP (first time I've watched one) and then we re-enter our alternative reality, hopefuly until the end of August.
Things of note? I just bought my first SLR, with the vain hope of learning a few things that will mean I can take some photos that people instantly recognise as not just "snapshots". I'm sure I'll master some of the technical side of it, but must wait and see if the creativity in me finds a hole big enough to sneek out of into the world at large.
This thingy on the internets was supposed to be one such hole. I'm not sure if it's managed to be that yet.
Anyway, maybe I'll post a shot or two up here when the mood, courage level, stupidity and belief in one of them manage to synchronise. then again, maybe I'll just put a shot a day up and they'll all be crap. I had the idea of producing a total self portrait (no, not just a nude), showing every part of my body accesible to the outside world. May take some creativity just to be able to manage it. It would be a series of photos, rather than one.
And there was me talking about normality. Aren't you glad you don't have to put up with that every day? I certainly am.
02 July, 2006
Keep moving
There's something that some citizens of the usa (and many people who both live and work in cities - myself included, when I'm in London) just do not get. It's a shame they don't get this, because their lives would probably be richer for it. The reason they don't get it is that their lives are driven by a market for the sake of the market.
And the thing they don't get - enough time.
"We Americans are in an incredibly fucking hurry" - Rands In Repose
This was something highlighted by a trip to France and Italy. In France, there is a long lunch break every day when most shops close. Almost all shops are closed on Sundays. This changes a bit when you get to central Paris, but, for all but those ten or so square kilometres, the same thing happens every weekday at about 12:00. The shops close, and everyone either goes to a cafe or restaurant, or goes home for a relaxed lunch (rush hour starts at 12:00 as half the population drives home - it's repeated at 14:00 as they return). Places start to open again between 14:00 and 14:30. This applies to most supermarkets, bakers, butchers, hardware shops, car dealers...in fact almost everything other than cafes, bars & restaurants.
If any one of those market driven people I talked about earlier were to actually read this, I imagine I would be able to hear the thought process.
"They're supposed to be in business, why aren't they staying open for lunch, just hire someone cheap to stand in for a few hours, especially if your competitor is closed, it's an opportunity to make more money, isn't that why you opened the shop in the first place? Good for nothing, lazy bastards, they deserve to go out of business if that's their attitude, it's the time of day when most of your customers will have some spare time to spend money with you."
There are a few easy reasons why they don't do that. For example, most if not all of their customers don't actually want to spend any of their lunch time shopping. They want to spend their lunch time having lunch, a long, relaxed lunch, just like my ficticious shop keeper is doing. For proof of this, at 13:00 go to one of the supermarkets that is open all day. It's empty. All the potential shoppers are having lunch.
Secondly, the shop keepers want to spend their lunch time having lunch, relaxing, taking their time, talking to friends, savouring their delicious food. Isn't that why they are running a shop in the first place, so they can afford to have a lifestyle that includes that good lunch?
Coming from London, the utter frustration of this is immense, and surprising. The shops are closing just at the time my city brain is thinking of the shops I'd like to visit. After 3 weeks here in France, it's just starting to fit into place, and the frustration is being replaced by acceptance of the situation. When I get to the point of expecting it, and not being surprised when I see it, I'll know I have finally started to settle in here. Forget the language. It's the culture that makes the French the French.
I'm a Brit working for an American software company from my house in rural France. I'll have to make sure I choose the bast bits from each culture. Working to live is the most important part of the French culture to take.
And the thing they don't get - enough time.
"We Americans are in an incredibly fucking hurry" - Rands In Repose
This was something highlighted by a trip to France and Italy. In France, there is a long lunch break every day when most shops close. Almost all shops are closed on Sundays. This changes a bit when you get to central Paris, but, for all but those ten or so square kilometres, the same thing happens every weekday at about 12:00. The shops close, and everyone either goes to a cafe or restaurant, or goes home for a relaxed lunch (rush hour starts at 12:00 as half the population drives home - it's repeated at 14:00 as they return). Places start to open again between 14:00 and 14:30. This applies to most supermarkets, bakers, butchers, hardware shops, car dealers...in fact almost everything other than cafes, bars & restaurants.
If any one of those market driven people I talked about earlier were to actually read this, I imagine I would be able to hear the thought process.
"They're supposed to be in business, why aren't they staying open for lunch, just hire someone cheap to stand in for a few hours, especially if your competitor is closed, it's an opportunity to make more money, isn't that why you opened the shop in the first place? Good for nothing, lazy bastards, they deserve to go out of business if that's their attitude, it's the time of day when most of your customers will have some spare time to spend money with you."
There are a few easy reasons why they don't do that. For example, most if not all of their customers don't actually want to spend any of their lunch time shopping. They want to spend their lunch time having lunch, a long, relaxed lunch, just like my ficticious shop keeper is doing. For proof of this, at 13:00 go to one of the supermarkets that is open all day. It's empty. All the potential shoppers are having lunch.
Secondly, the shop keepers want to spend their lunch time having lunch, relaxing, taking their time, talking to friends, savouring their delicious food. Isn't that why they are running a shop in the first place, so they can afford to have a lifestyle that includes that good lunch?
Coming from London, the utter frustration of this is immense, and surprising. The shops are closing just at the time my city brain is thinking of the shops I'd like to visit. After 3 weeks here in France, it's just starting to fit into place, and the frustration is being replaced by acceptance of the situation. When I get to the point of expecting it, and not being surprised when I see it, I'll know I have finally started to settle in here. Forget the language. It's the culture that makes the French the French.
I'm a Brit working for an American software company from my house in rural France. I'll have to make sure I choose the bast bits from each culture. Working to live is the most important part of the French culture to take.
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