All I want(ed) for Christmas

Guess what I got for Christmas. Give up? It's the latest, must- have, device for the 21st Century. It's a Kindle HD Fire! Woohoo! I love my wife sooo much, for t'was she that made me such a happy little boy all over again.
I can't find an app, such as BlogPress or Blogger, that allows me to write and post from this device, though. If anyone can suggest an app, please let me know because I'm using the Fire's web browser to post this (normally, I'd be using the iPhone app, BlogPress) and it's not an alternative that I'm entirely happy with.
Unlike the rest of the device. There's so much to discover that I'll have to post a separate review once I've got my head round it. Loving it, so far. But not as much as my wife.
Thank you, baby ;) xxx

Paper pages

It occurred to me recently that although I enjoy reading every day, I haven't actually read a book for months. It's usually online blogs and bedtime stories. So I popped down to the local library to see what I could see (see see). I came away with Retromancer, by Robert Rankin, a recent addition to his Brentford Trilogy. I wasn't disappointed. On page one was a footnote I'd like to share with you. It encapsulates what I find so enjoyable about his work.

Dot of the Antarctic was the founder of TSFTFSOTF, the unpronounceable and instantly forgettable acronym of The Society for the Forgotten Sisters of the Famous. In its heyday TSFTFSOTF numbered amongst its members not only Florence of Arabia, Fay Guevara and Sharon Munchausen, but also Jordan of Khartoum and Julia Caesar. Today the society is, alas, all but forgotten.

His style has been described, by some, as Steam Punk. I wouldn't know about that but it made me chuckle. I can't wait to read page two ;)

Muddy waters

There's been a bit of a hoohaa regarding Instagram's terms of service, lately. Some say that users' photos will be up for grabs, gratis and without the user's permission, for advertising purposes, etc. I don't know how true this is but since Facebook took ownership of one of my favourite photo sharing/social networking sites/apps, I haven't been as satisfied with the way it's been managed.

I'm already using Flickr but have since discovered that once I reach 200 uploads, that's it. Unless I choose to upgrade my membership and pay an annual fee. Not exactly appealing to me. So, I've decided to try something different. Namely, Streamzoo. I heard about it from the people I follow on Instagram. The same people who possibly stand to lose out if the rumours about Instagram's TOS turn out to be true. I quite like it so far, as I'm able to upload videos as well as pictures. And I'm not constrained by the square photo format, either. Bonus.

My username is myth337. If you're already a member, or you're thinking of joining Streamzoo, look me up. I'm still very new to it, so be kind to me.

That's the way to do it!

In my last post, I spoke about joining deviantART and how I was going to get started. Well, well, well, imagine my surprise when I discovered photos taken from the Playstation game, Gran Turismo.




I've been taking pics using the in-game photo mode for ages but didn't really have any use for them. Now I can upload them and have other like minded people take pleasure (if you can call it that) from my efforts. Result!

Getting stARTed

When I was younger I used to enjoy drawing. I would create little worlds and populate them with my own characters, having adventures in rocket ships or leaping tall buildings, superhero style. For me, it was always about the possibilities of the future and what may be. I still like to dream but I haven't put pencil to paper for such a long time, until recently, when I found myself doodling on the back of a printer test sheet.

So, I've decided to start again. Only this time I'll be posting my art online, something I wasn't able to do umpteen years ago. I found a site I'm happy with called deviantART and I've made a profile, etc, but what comes next? Do I post my doodle? Before getting ahead of myself I think I'll put up some photos I've been playing with on my iPhone. There are some pretty cool apps to make a photo look like a sketch and that's what I've been using to create some superhero-ish characters.

So, if you're interested, have a peek and see what you think. There's a link on my Home page, in the Here I Am section. All comments are welcome.

Day 25: An authority in(competence)

A debt collection agency have been sending us threatening letters for a while now, for four months, in fact. We've been calling them week after week, trying to get to the bottom of the problem.

They said that Harrow council had passed the debt on to them. We asked what the debt was? After several weeks, we were told it was due to non-payment of council tax. We checked our receipts and found no gaps in our council tax payments. We asked which payments had been missed and had to wait several more weeks to get an unsatisfactory answer. We had a receipt and a reference number, given by the council, for the payment in question. We asked the agency to contact the council again with the reference number we had provided and had another few weeks wait until it was discovered that we had paid our council tax for the period in question but that it had been paid late which had broken an agreement between the council and ourselves.

We were confused as, by this time, the agency were sending us letters questioning where I had moved to (I'm still at the same address) and threatening to seize my car (neither my wife or I drive) if payment wasn't forthcoming. A letter also claimed that a bailiff could turn up at any time to seize property equal to the value of the debt. This was very worrying as the actual amount we owed was growing due to various charges we had incurred. What?

Enough was enough. Time to take the bull by the horns. We made an appointment to speak to an advisor at the council, armed with every piece of paperwork we could find regarding our council tax payments and fired a shot across their boughs that halted them in their tracks. We could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that we had made a payment for the period in question and we could prove that the money had left our bank account and been paid into the council's bank account on the date we had always claimed it had. To top that, it turns out that, once the council had checked it's records (for the umpteenth time), we had actually overpaid our council tax!

Now all we need is for the council to effectively contact the debt collection agency and stop them from harassing us regarding this nonexistent debt. Considering my previous experience with Harrow council, I won't be holding my breath.

Day 23: Now I'm really depressed

It's only just occurred to me that I'll have to wait four months before the start of the next Formula 1 season. Heaven help me.

If your interested, I also write an F1 blog. You can find it here:

http://agent337.wordpress.com/

Day 18: Losing my rag

After speaking to my GP, regarding the side effects of my medication (a zombie-like state), he agreed to reduce my dosage and has referred me to someone who will be able to sit and talk through my problems with me. The meds are helping and the prospect of having someone listen to me gives me hope for the future.
Today, however, I lost my temper for the first time in weeks. Not with anything in my own life but with a complete stranger's neglect of her own child.
I was furious.
She had left her boy, about 6 years of age, outside a shop and out of her line of sight. I had seen a passer-by question the boy about his mothers whereabouts and then proceed inside the shop to question the mother. Having been given a (seemingly) satisfactory answer, the passer-by continued on her way. My wife and I weren't convinced, though, as the mother didn't leave the shop and the boy was still out of her sight. So, we decided to wait a while to ensure the boy's safety. Minutes passed and she still hadn't left the shop.
At this point the boy started to wander off without the mother's knowledge. I stepped forward and told the boy to get back to his mother. I found her inside chatting to (I can only assume) her friend, blissfully unaware that her child had moved off from where she thought he was.
I let rip.
I can't remember the precise words I used but I called into question what would happen if somebody tried to take her child, reaching out and holding her son's shoulder. She wasn't in the least bit fazed by an angry stranger touching her boy. I would have had someone's arm off if they had tried to touch either of my children. I gave her the bollocking she deserved, backed up by my wife, who managed to keep her anger in check much better than I did.
Seething, I had to walk away. You can only do so much and you can't reason with the unreasonable.
The moral of this tale? If you have to ask...

A ramble on crisps

Have you ever noticed how a bag of crisps, once opened, already looks half finished. Annoying, isn't it. Well, I've been thinking about that very thing. Not obsessively, just casually. Anyway, it went like this:

Crisps are pretty fragile things and nobody wants to open a bag of crumbs (or whatever the crisp version is called. Probably crumbs), so the crisp makers need to protect them by filling the bags with air.
In the interests of openness and to avoid disappointment, why couldn't they put their crisps into clear packets?
I'll tell you why. Because nobody would want to buy, what looks like, a half filled bag of crisps. Which is why I believe that crisp makers put them into non-transparent bags. Foil fresh, my aunt fanny.

If you're looking for a satisfying snack, in an honest bag, I suggest you try some pork scratchings. Not Mr Porky, because they are an inferior scratching (and it's not a clear bag), but the real deal. You know, the ones that still have a few hairs on them.

Don't look at me like that. They're bloody gorgeous, they are!

Day 7: On the seventh day...

I've been taking Sertraline for a week now and I'm really not sure it's the best thing for me. My body aches, my head aches, I lack motivation and I feel stoned most of the time. At least when I was smoking weed, I could decide when I'd had enough. This reminds me more of dropping acid; off your face for eight hours and then an exhausting return to reality. Except I don't get to experience normality because I have to take the Sertraline again the next day. Groundhog Day without any of the benefits. I think it's time to have another little chat with my GP. ASAP.

Day 5: Long story short

To sum up my day, it could have been better. I'm too tired to think straight so I'll write more about today, tomorrow.

Day 4: Talk is cheap

One phone call, a pot of tea and a hot chocolate. I wasn't buying but this is what it cost my family and friends to cheer me up. Oh, and their time, which is what really counts.
I'd like to thank each of them, you know who you are, for taking a few moments out of their day and showing me a little compassion and understanding.
But most of all, I want to publicly thank my amazing wife for caring for me during this difficult period in our lives. I always knew she was special and her recent actions have served to reinforce my faith in her. I don't know what I would have done without her.
Thank you, baby. I love you. X

Day 3: No Dramas

Today was a good day. Nothing exciting happened and there were no disasters. A happy medium, I suppose.

Day 2: Job Centre Minus

I've been keeping my problems to myself for far too long, partly (only partly) because I thought I wouldn't be believed. Today I came face to face with my fears. She works at the Job Centre Plus. Having to explain my situation became a humiliating experience I have no wish to repeat.
I've had to talk to a number of people over the past few weeks and most of them have been understanding, even caring. However, when it came to she-who-shall-remain-nameless (for now, at least), I felt as if I were just telling porkies in order to con the benefit system. In fact, upon leaving the JCP offices, I felt almost ashamed of myself and hid myself away at home for the remainder of the day.
This was inversely proportionate (not really but I love that phrase) to my arrival where the security guard asked to see my boarding pass. It wasn't much but it made me smile. Cheers, mate.

Day 1: Sertraline

So... I've been prescribed Sertraline tablets for my depression. Makes me feel a little dopey. Ironic, since I gave up smoking weed a couple of weeks ago.
I wouldn't say I was proud of myself for quitting the green stuff but it was something I had to do. Now I'm popping pills. Go figure.

Guardian Angels

As you may know, I recently lost my job, and I've not really done anything about finding work. It left me feeling down but if I'm being honest that's no excuse. I've been sitting on the sofa feeling sorry for myself for far too long and today a man knocked on my door and woke me up.
He asked me if I'd like a "No Junk Mail" sticker for my front door. Why not, I thought. He explained that he was out of work and was trying to make a little money by offering these stickers for any small change. I said that I was out of work too, implying I had no money to give. He gave me a sticker anyway.
If I were a religious man, now would be the time to declare that I had received a vision.
I'm not.
But he did make me see that it's time to get up off my backside and turn my life around.
Gotta go, the world awaits...

While my guitar gently sleeps

Head down, a photo by Lee's Myth on Flickr.

iLiterature

There's been this niggling thought hanging about inside my head for a little while now.

It all started (one dark and stormy night) when my eleven year old told me the meaning of iliteration. Simply put, it's words coupled with each other because they share a common first letter, such as Simple Simon, Fast Food or New York, New York*.

That wasn't the thought.

I like to think about words. About their origins, their meanings and their evolutions. I like the way they sound. I like to look for connections that don't always exist. I like to explore.

This also wasn't the thought.

The thought goes something like this, but in no particular order;
Literate people can read, illiterate people can't read, the iPhone could have an app called "iLiterature", would this app contain books for people who can't read or merely contain examples of iliteration?
Also songs go "ooh ooh ah ha" etc. Try putting that in a book.


*Not really NY but you never know.

Crossroads

I haven't written or needed to write a CV for about fifteen years. Now, I do. I recently lost my job (I won't bore you with the details) and I am now in an unfamiliar situation. In the past, I've always found myself a new job before handing in my resignation but this time I have no new job waiting for me and instead find myself at a crossroads in my life.


The fact that I turn 40 next year doesn't exactly help, either!

Once bitten, twice stung

The night before last, something found it's way into my bedroom and bit me. Or maybe stung me, I'm not really sure. It wasn't my wife. It wasn't a werewolf or a vampire. It was probably some evil mutant insect with HUGE RAZOR SHARP TEETH... In Africa?! No.




Anyway, I'm on the hardcore prescription drugs and the swelling has already begun to come down. It still itches but I've been good and resisted the urge to have a bloody good scratch. If I find the bug that did this to me, I'll give it the bitch slapping it deserves.

If you're not proud to be British, it's because you're not British!

When I was younger, I used to watch my mother screaming at the TV, bouncing on the edge of her seat and going a funny shade of red. This was not usual behaviour for her. Lazy Sunday afternoons usually found my mum with a book in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. What can have brought about such a change? No, it wasn't that. It was...




I didn't understand how the Olympic games could affect people in this way. To a young boy, finding his way in the world, it simply didn't make sense that the outcome of a race could lift people up in ecstatic rapture or leave them utterly deflated. It was during the men's 3000m, on Saturday night, that I began to exhibit symptoms similar to that of my mother's. I began to feel tense and restless as the race went on, lap after lap.
And then it happened.
I found myself bouncing on the sofa, clenching my fists and snarling at the television. "Come on! Come on!" I Could feel tears in my eyes and my heart was punching it's way out of my chest as an historic gold medal was won for Great Britain. Now I know what my mum was getting so worked up about all those years ago.

Investigating instagram

So, you've just found instagram and you're looking for someone interesting to follow. Well, I'm not one to blow my own trumpet (I play a different instrument) but you could do a lot worse than to choose me.







True, there are far better photographers out there with high quality cameras and the like but there are also some really awful users who post blurry, uninspired photos (mostly of themselves, it had to be said).







Each and every photo I upload has been thought about carefully. If a photo needs editing for clarity or effect then I take the time to do it to the best of my ability (and equipment, budget permitting).







Anyway, enough trumpet blowing. I've added some examples of my work to give you a taste. Come and join me if you like what you see. You can find me as @myth337

On the buses

I've been traveling on the buses quite a bit recently. Not because I want to but because my wife has to visit her GP every other day in order to be treated. I'm not going to go into details here but this should have been done and dusted 3 years ago. Instead, she is in pain, cannot easily get around and this is all due to the negligence/incompetence of the NHS. We are not happy bunnies.

O2 4U

I've been having a little trouble with my O2 broadband wireless reuter for the last few months. Mostly it works but it likes to stop working for a couple of minutes every once in a while which can be really infuriating. To be fair (Why should I be fair, really?), the fault/blame may not lie with O2, it could be BT, for it is their lines that O2 and I are trying to use.
Either way, when I informed O2 of the problem they asked me to press the reset button. Job done. Except the problem returned. So they suggested changing the ADSL filter with the spare that comes in the box. That seemed to do the trick and they said they'd pop another filter in the post for me, just in case. When it happened again, I swapped the filter... Again.
So, are we happy now? Not yet. Guess what happened next. Yup. So I called O2 again and they said they'd send me a new reuter which I should recieve in 3 days, which they did, which I did. Anyway, I've just finished installing the software and everything so let's keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best.

Clip clip ✂ snip snip

I had my hair cut today. By my wife! And I'll tell you something for nothing, she did a bloody good job, too.
Neither of us were entirely sure what we were doing but with my feel (do it harder, yeah, that's good, etc*) and her eyes (that doesn't look right**) we managed to get through it in one piece. Well, I didn't. I was scattered all over the floor in many pieces. Actually, If she had managed to clip an ear or snip a finger, I would have been astonished because I had total faith in my wife and the thought never entered my head until long after she had finished.




Will I be asking her indoors to step up the next time my Barnett needs seeing to? You betcha!

* innuendo.
** more innuendo

Ddoubless

I think it may be my age but I've started mixing up double letters in words.

What am I talking about? Well, a simple example would be: "goggle" instead of "google". At least the mistake is still a word. Most of the time it just looks like gibberish. Or gibeerish, which could mean anything.

I hope I don't start doing it with numbers...

Coming soon

I haven't forgotten my promise to post more blogs. There's a nice one on the boil at the moment but I'm having difficulty putting my thoughts into words. Hmm, words...

A week away

My wife has taken our boy to see his grandparents in Scotland and they've left me on my own for a week. It's pretty quiet around here without them. A misbehaving Freddie can be a terrible thing but, on the whole, I'd rather have him around than not, as he always finds a way to put a smile on my face. Every single day.

And it goes without saying that my wife is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, my better half. Not my other half. My better half. Got that? Good, because I'm reminded of it daily and it's never more true than when she isn't here.

I've got the biggest hug waiting for them upon their return ;) xxx

Frosty

Outside looked almost magical this morning with frost covering nearly every surface. I would have enjoyed taking photographs because there were some very interesting patterns on car bonnets etc but that would have made me late for work. Bum.