How will it be?

Apparently the me inviting girls up to the Treehouse thing last weekend is actually a thing. Someone who wasn't even there asked me if I got the girls phone numbers today. So it is a thing that is being talked about. And it has increased my "cred" with people in general. I think that I will see how things go this evening - if I can do that, perhaps I can engage ladies in conversation and have some fun. I didn't know I was capable of such things, but if other people think I can, then why not? This just feels like something has changed in me, you know? I hadn't been out with a group of people in quite some time prior to this year, and I feel... really good about stuff in general with the guys at work. They are really quite blokey blokes, and I guess it's just kind of rubbing off on me.
The "corner buddies" thing didn't really work out last weekend with Kate and Ferini. As I mentioned in the last post, Ferini ended up with a lacerated foot, I got kicked out of a nightclub, and Kate was so drunk that she can't remember various parts of the evening, and isn't exactly happy or proud of the things she can remember. I probably shouldn't be talking about other people like this, but anyone who reads this isn't likely to ever meet the people in question. Things did start out reasonably - I spent a fair amount of time with Ferini until Kate arrived, then spent quite a lot of time with Kate at the Treehouse. It's sort of later that things got messy.
But tonight Kate is picking me and Ferini up and giving us a ride to the first port of call - drinks at someones house. Apparently we are a gang, now. But we don't have a cool name, because we aren't cool. Although I think the girls can speak for themselves - I'm plenty cool, thank you very much ; )

This is the end...

Things I'm looking forward to:

The end of work tomorrow morning. It's the end of the week. Yay!

The end of the working year. Two and a bit weeks off. Yay!

Going out tomorrow night to celebrate the end of the working year with people from work. Yay!

The whole family Christmas dealy. Yay!

Possibly also going to a pub tomorrow morning directly after work with some of the people from work and having beer for breakfast. Yay (if it happens - not too sure on numbers at this stage).

But , all in all, this is a good time of year.

Last Saturday night wasn't bad - I had quite a good time, up to the point where I got kicked out of a nightclub and decided to go home. This was, as far as I can remember, a first for me. And I wasn't even doing anything. I was apparently just standing around looking a bit sleepy, my eyes half closed, and a security guy came up and said I looked like I'd had too much to drink, and could I please leave. He was basically right - I had had too much to drink - but it seemed a little unfair. He was a weaselly little guy who I saw watching me as soon as our group arrived. I think he basically just waited for me to be separated from the group (I don't remember exactly how that happened - I may have gone to the bathroom, I think) and then got rid of me. It wasn't really a bad thing - I was somewhat fucked. And it was three in the morning, so it's not like I piked out early or anything. And another guy in our group got kicked out too. I was also reminded of something by someone at work today - Ferini has had the last three days off because her foot got lacerated when two big fighting Trannies crashed into her and she stepped on a bottle one of them had dropped (this was at a different club after I went home). When she came back last night she was asking if anything interesting happened on Saturday, and then reminded me of this:
While we were at the Treehouse, me and a couple of other guys were outside having a smoke, and they were giving the passing groups of young ladies "Wazzups?" and "How you doin's" without much reaction. I gave it a go with a group of girls and invited them to come upstairs and join us, and they all did. Result! Unfortunately I got somewhat distracted by various other things at that point, so didn't follow up on how they were getting on. But people were well impressed. As was I. The things you can do when you're drunk are really quite surprising. So, not a fantastically interesting evening, but really not bad...

Ongoing ribbing

Well, the week has been interesting. I have officially been ranked as one of the three worst off people at the work do last week. Although it depends to some extent who you talk to. people who just attended the party and didn't go clubbing afterwards say it was a toss up between me and Ferini for messiest person there. Basically I was apparently constantly drinking, and very wobbly on my feet. Also I found out that I almost fell off the smokers balcony. Which given that the do was on the 14th floor would have been quite messy. I was told that I was basically bouncing off the walls outside, and pitched forward over the railing. Someone grabbed hold of the back of my shirt, and he said there was "some tension" there from my weight going too far forward. This is probably the stupidest thing I've heard about me so far. And the scariest. But I'm still here, so never mind...
Yeah, so I was mostly just staggering about and being very, very drunk. Ferini was apparently in a similar state, also can't remember everything (although her memory is substantially better than mine) and fell over three times before she was half carried out because she couldn't walk properly. But apparently she went home, had a power nap and then went back to town to go clubbing. I don't know that I've ever had that kind of endurance...
The third person, who some people say was by far the worst, was Kate. But she wasn't too bad at the do, and only got really messy afterwards at the nightclubs, so half the people at work didn't see her in full drunk mess state.
As an upshot of all this, the three of us are going to be "corner buddies" at Macca's going away do next Saturday. I don't see this as a great idea - the three worst drinkers from the last function trying to keep each other out of trouble. It could get very messy indeed... But I am determined to stick to beer next week (well, maybe a shot or two, but no RTD lolly water drinks, and definitely no Absinthe) which should keep things sane. The only problem with beer compared to other drinks is the amount of time you spend in the toilets, because it definitely moves through me faster than just about anything else. The going away party is at the Treehouse, and I suspect that I will be expected to sing again. I think that this time I will choose my own song, something a little less screechy than Guns'n'Roses. Apparently I have to attend because there has to be someone there to fall off the stage. I will endeavour to be a disappointment in that department this time around...

Not so bad

Well, after a night back at work, it doesn't sound like things were too bad on Saturday. Apparently I'm a "legend" again. And "hardcore." The drinking culture in this country is ridiculous. It's like if you drink yourself half to death, Stagger about and get basically just messy, people are impressed. I'd like to get through a night like this with my memory intact. The problem is I don't seem to have an off switch once I start drinking. And once I'm really drunk, I don't know how much I've had or when to stop. And, apparently, I get quite angry when people try to stop me. Herm...
Still, from the sounds of things my getting "messy" wasn't the most embarrassing thing that went down at the do. In fact, from the sounds of it, there were other people in similarly bad states, just not quite as early as me. Oh, and people weren't so much worried about me when I left, it was while I was still there. Apparently they tried to get me to eat something, but I wasn't having a bar of it. And Kate said I was happy, smiling and laughing when she arrived. Apparently I was trying to have playfights with Macka - He's this other fairly large guy in Comms. But that's fairly normal for me. And it sounds like there were other young ladies making inappropriate passes at members of staff. There is one girl who had last night off who I don't think is going to be too happy about coming in today. She was apparently "pashing up" one of our production leaders, who is about 55 and married. Eww...
But yeah, I guess it was just a pretty regular kind of work party. The cinema functions in Wellington tended to be the same sort of thing. Inappropriate canoodlings, general drunken messiness... And, generally, me too far gone to remember half of it. Although I think that this past Saturday was bad, even for me. I don't usually lose such a significant portion of the evening. Never mind...
Oh, and a quick damage report - left hand still slightly swollen, but feeling okay. Apparently I was punching the ceiling out on the smokers balcony quite hard, which may explain this. Lump on arm - just coming up in a bruise. Probably part of the previous hitting things - possibly bashed it on a pole out on the smokers balcony. Somewhat sore spot on top of head - I am told was likely the result of walking full force into a mirror on the way out of the toilets. Just kind of hurts, but given that it's under my hair I can't really tell if it's particularly bad. No blood or anything, at any rate. Otherwise, I'm fully intact and functioning normally. Which is pretty bloody lucky, really. I sometimes wonder how I've made it to 34 without incurring any serious damage...

A waste of time

Last night was just... nothing. I got really drunk, apparently made a bit of a fool of myself, then went home early. I don't really remember Kate arriving, and a lot of the night is a blur. I don't think the boat race actually happened - the layout of the function wasn't really right for it. Yeah... What a fucking waste of time.
Kate has been texting me this morning - apparently I wasn't too bad, just really drunk. She apparently had some dodgy chicken at BK at the end of the night, so may not be at work this evening. And apparently she was being "skanky" with all the guys at the do, including the ones who had girlfriends with them, so she doesn't want to show her face tonight. Shit. Nothing ever works out right. The only embarrassing thing she mentioned about me was I was doing my "go on, hit me in the stomach" thing. Or beer belly, as I was apparently calling it. Oh, and apparently everyone was really worried about me when I left. Ha.

Party!

Yup, it's the work do this evening. I'm still of two minds about the whole thing - but I think that I'm more excited now than worried. I'm part of the boat race team - and I think that people are expecting me to be a real asset. The boat race is two teams, one from Comms and one from Mains, about eight people in each, and we're doing the double run - meaning that we all have to skull (or is it scull?) two pints, and whoever is the anchor has to down two in a row. That'll be pretty tough. I don't think I'll be stepping up for that position. But with the competitive nature of the guys at work, I'd better be able to drink the way I could back in the day. It's been quite a while since I tried to chug back a pint all at once. They are trying to balance up the teams, so with only one female in Mains who'll be joining in, there is only one women's spot on our team. Which doesn't work out all that well - Kate and Ferini both want to join in. Personally I don't see any problem with that - I don't see gender as a basis for drinking ability. Kate is quite the pisshead, and I suspect that she could drink half the guys at work under the table. I guess we'll just have to see how things work out...
What else? I had a consultative meeting with the otehr union reps and the company yesterday. From the sounds of things, my department - Comms - is dying slowly. Apparently the future of wire manufacturing is mostly in medium voltage energy cable. Oh well - I'm getting pretty bloody sick of the place anyway. I think that I'll stick it out through next year while I'm living with my sister and her family, then seriously look for something more... interesting at the end of the year. Although it's not like the Comms plant will be shutting down immediately - I think the general projection si a steady decline over the next ten years. So I can probably stay on at GC for a while yet. I have considered doing some extramural study, just to keep my brain from atrophying. I am quite interested in doing a Bachelor of Communication, majoring in journalism studies. It doesn't lead directly to being a journalist- there is a post graduate course that follows from it that is industry based. But it does seem interesting, and who knows? If it goes well I could do the Vocational course in a few years time. Mostly it would just be something better than TV and rubbish to occupy my time. And it's been a while since I've borrowed any money from the government - my student loan has actually been shrinking quite a bit over the last few years.
I hate this period of time - I'm feeling really antsy about the function tonight, and just want to start drinking now. But it's perhaps a little early... I could go to a bar in town at 5pm to get started - the do isn't till 7:30, but at least one person is starting at 5, then others are heading into town around 6. Unfortunately Kate won't be coming in till later - she is bringing a friend who works on Saturdays, so is waiting for them at her place. I think she'll be arriving around 8 o'clock. Which means that I'm going to have to pace myself - I don't want to be too drunk before she arrives. I don't know that there will be anything happen, but if I'm too pissed it'll definitely kill things. On the other hand, if I'm too sober, I'll just be my usual crap self. So there is a tightrope to be walked. Oh fuck it, who knows what may come? As long as I have some fun and don't make too much of an ass of myself, it'll be all good...

Meh...

So, what's new? Well...

I'm apparently going to be attending the work end of year social function. I don't know that I really want to go, but have been persuaded to attend. I figure that either I'll get far too drunk and make a fool of myself, or I won't get drunk enough and will just be bored and annoyed by stupid drunk people. Whatever the case, I can't say that I'm really looking forward to it. So why am I going? Oh, and I've been recruited for the skulling team. That should be messy. Guys at work are very competitive. They run pool competitions on a regular basis, enlisting pretty much anyone they can. I have not participated. Because it isn't like playing for fun - most of them take it far too seriously, hassling each other in a slightly less than just friendly way, running one comp that actually had money involved, talking about how crap other players are behind their backs... All just a bit naff. The skulling competitions at social do's tend to be Mains versus Comms. And it's interesting - when I started working at GC, I had applied for a job in Mains, but was offered a position in Comms. Apparently I was "too intelligent" to do the job that was on offer in Mains. I don't know why I put too intelligent in quotes there, but never mind. I caught myself doing air quotes at work the other day. I wanted to smack me for it. Anyhow, I have noticed, in general, something of a difference between the staff in the two factories. For the most part, I wouldn't have said that the work in Comms is that much more complicated than in Mains, but there do seem to be slightly more with it, mature people on the Comms side of the place. At least on nightshift.

I was thinking about looking for another job the other day, because I am getting bored with the work I'm doing and generally sick of the people I have to be around at work. But when I really thought about it, it struck me that it isn't the specific people I work with, it's just people in general. And work in any field is likely to bore me, unless I do some training or study so I can look at more interesting careers. And actually the people at work aren't that bad. And the money ain't bad, neither. Fuck it...

I still really like my new car. It's just cool. And I've had a couple of people at work comment favourably about it, which is good. It's funny - I know that I think it's totally cool, and I love the way it looks and whatnot, but I still feel a little insecure about whether or not other people like it. It shouldn't matter - but it does. But there's one guy at work who bought an RVR recently too, who thinks that their great cars in general and that mine is a particularly good looking example. And another guy on Sunday night pulled up alongside me at the traffic lights on the way to work, and when we got to work he said it was a "real nice" looking car, especially with the cool wheels. Nicely reassuring.

Okay, so I'm not really sure where things are with Kate (the nice young lady at work). But hey, that's pretty much where things always end up with me and the ladies. But it was her that persuaded me to go to the work function. Not that that means anything - she was also trying to persuade other recalcitrant people they should attend. I think she's just that kind of person. So I think I'll just see how things go there - it's in a couple of weeks. I guess that, as much as anything, that's why I'll be attending.

Little Dude

"Keys"
"What?"
"Want keys"
"Okay,"
(Uncle hands nephew, standing on drivers seat of car, the keys)
"Why do you want the keys?"
"Drive"
"Where are you going?"
"Drive shops... Get chipees... from McDonalds"

I love my nephew...

Teh Car

Okay, so I said I'd post photos of my car. When I could be bothered taking photos. And I have been bothered.
I went over to my sister's place this morning and me and my brother-in-law (and my nephew) did the whole car cleaning thing. We have come to an agreement that this should be an ongoing thing, like every Saturday. Which seems very blokey, but is also very cool. Because I like my new car very much, and keeping it looking good is... good. Plus doing this with someone else allows for the splitting of costs - I'm going to track down a decent car polish, while my brother-in-law will be purchasing tire-shining stuff.
Wheeeee!
What else? I asked the nice young lady from work out a couple of weeks ago, then came to realise that it wasn't the best idea, so haven't made any real plans with her. The thing is, I find her very attractive, and kind of fun, and I feel much happier about the whole being at work deal when she is around. But... well, she is a bit of a "party girl," and just a little too busy for me. I think if I'd met someone like her ten years ago, it would have been great. But she really makes me feel like I'm actually 34 years old. Most of the time I don't even think about it, but when she's telling me about what she gets up to every weekend, I find myself split between two sort of modes of thought.
On the one hand, there's the old, tired me of now that thinks that what she is getting up to is just no good, and that the youth of today are all evil and debauched. And at the same time, there is the realisation that my life at the age of twenty was fairly hedonisitc, and that what she is doing with her Friday and Saturday evenings is no worse than anything me and my friends used to get up to.

Actually, I did know girls like her when I was her age, but I was too much of an idiot to pursue them when I was their age. If that makes any sense...
I went to see 1408 on Friday. I thought it was great. I fell asleep during the first bits, and I think I may have missed one or two amusing moments, but I was very much awake for the bulk of the film, and it was a properly scary movie. Not like all these Saw sequels, or Hostel, or whatever other god-awful gore-porn pile of shit you may care to name. It was like a properly scary, old timey horror film. Like all the classics from the 70s and 80s, like Evil Dead 2, or The Thing...
It sucks that the standard for "horror" films these days seems to have far less to do with story, or ingenuity, or actual scares, and is more about just blood and guts and shock value. Films like Hostel, that was just a crappy story, a bunch of pointless shit to lead into just some truly horiffic, nasty scenes. Like the most important thing in a horror film isn't what you make people feel right down in their guts, but if you can make people feel like being sick from seeing disgusting shit. Blurgh, I don't know if I'm getting across what I'm thinking. Basically, I think that people like Eli Roth (the writer and director of Hostel) should just basically fuck off. They make terrible, pointless films that only cater to the lowest common denominator. Like Saw. I watched the first one, and was actually quite impressed. It was quite well thought out, had some genuinely shocking bits, and actually had a story of sorts to tell. then you get Saw 2, and Saw 3, and now Saw 4... And they are all just fucking awful. Cashing in on a franchise, with no consideration of whether or not it's artistically valid. Just about cash. Fucking money... At least I assume that's the case. Because if the people who write these fucking awful sequels actually think they are putting together a worthwhile addition to a storyline, that is very, very sad indeed.

Retards

"Aaayyyyy"
"Brooooo"
"Aaayyyy"
"Fuck, bro, fuck"
"mumble incoherently BITCHES mumble mumble"
(sound of basketball hitting footpath)
"Fuck,"
(idiot laughter)
(shitty rotary engine that sounds like a car farting, revving high followed by tire squeals)
(more idiotic laughter)
"Fuck, man, bro..."
"You's all bitches"
"mumble gotta get mumble bitch mumble fuck"
(more annoying car noises, basketball bouncing and idiot laughter)
(carries on in this vein for about 10 fucking minutes)

Soundtrack to my Friday evening, trying to take a nap on my couch with the window open. On going to close the window, discovered that what I would have taken from the voices to be a gang of "thugs" or homies was in fact three white teenagers and one polynesian kid in school uniform. Which just goes to show, you can't judge a book by its cover, or some shit... I'm very, very tired...

Driving

That was a huge amount of fun. "That" being the drive I just went for. Went on? I don't know ... Anyway, I was just driving for the sake of going for a drive. I started out on the road to Timaru, heading out of Christchurch through Hornby. I saw a sign with a directional arrow to Akaroa, and recalled that my brother-in-law had said that the road to Akaroa was a good drive. So I changed course and went on a little adventure. About 15 minutes out of town, there was a divergence in the road, one direction heading out to Akaroa, the other going through Gables Pass to Diamond Harbour and Lyttleton. I considered the use of petrol and things and decided that the shorter drive would be more sensible. The Gables pass road turned out to be a very good choice. It is a twisty, fun little road that winds up hill for quite a distance, then is just as twisty and turny on the way down. It is really fun to test the limits of a cars steering, tyres and engine. Not that I was driving like a maniac or anything - you really couldn't on a road like this without potentially taking a fairly long drop into someones valley farm.
After that stretch, I turned back into Christchurch over Dyers Pass. It is also a spectacular road, both in the feel of driving a tight winding road with a dangerous drop just to the edge of you, and also the views. The back side of the Port Hills are rough, goarse covered masses, running down to a small Harbour (or mud flats while I was driving there - the tide was out). And as you come around the top of the hills, you get this amazing view over the whole of the city. It would be awesome at night, too. And the road to get to Dyers Pass from the Christchurch side isn't far from my flat, so I can go up that way whenever I like without much travel. Neat...
But yeah, I now have a fairly good idea of the handling and performance of my new car in a good variety of conditions, and I love it. It's about the same power as my old car, but a bit zippier, and kind of more fun. Generally, very cool indeed. I will post photos of the car when I can be bothered taking photos of it.

Vroom! and whatnot...

I bought a new car last week. Hmmm... I can't really think of much of any real interest to say about it. It's a Mitsubishi RVR - kind of a Japanesey, slightly blokey version of my Mum's old Renault Scenic. Which is now my brother's Scenic... BUt yeah, where the Scenic is kind of a family car, the RVR is a little more sporty looking. It's interesting actually, I read a review of the RVR from the Christchruch Press back in 1998, and they rated it very highly, 9 out of 10 in most areas, and said that of the range of similar vehicles on the market at the time, the only real contender was the Renault Scenic. Funny, huh?
I found out how much a good stereo matters to me, too. The head unit in the RVR was stuck on like almost maximum volume (and was a crappy tape deck anyway) so the guy at the dealership offered to have the stereo removed from my old car and installed in the new one. But I had to drive it around over the long weekend with no stereo, as I had to book it into their service centre to get the transfer done. I had planned to do some cruising, maybe head up the Port Hills, or out of town, to enjoy the new car. But without music, it just isn't the same... And when I thought about it in general, I pretty much always have some kind of soudtrack to my life. Generally I select music to either match or change my mood. Loud, happy stuff when I'm feeling good, depressing, angry stuff when I'm feeling bad. And I guess that the depressing, angry music is kind of cathartic - I tend to listen to things like Nine Inch Nails,or songs like Fade to Black, and it'll drag me right down, to the point where I kind of hit bottom, and all you can do from there is either wallow in it, or climb back up. Generally, the climb seems more appealing than wallowing, so it works out as a good way to get myself out of a funk.
On the music side of things, I bought the Top Gear driving anthems album yesterday. It's very cool. A nice mix of kind of groovy, fun songs. It definitely works as a driving album. Which I suppose is the point. But the thing that I really like is that there isn't really anything on it I don't like. Most compilation CDs tend to have some good tracks, some just okay stuff, and some really naff business. This is fairly consistently good, with some really great tracks, too.
And on the being in a funk side, I've been feeling sort of angry or depressed for the last couple of weeks. Most of the time, anyway. Last weekend was good, though - Mum and Dad were in town, so doing family stuff was a nice break from the angriness and depression. Basically, I think I'm just at taht point with my job where I can only just be bothered even turning up. Things that have made the last couple of weeks less than fun...
Well, for a start, there was a work mystery bus trip two weekends ago. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to go, but a nice young lady persuaded me it would be fun, so I bought a ticket. I walked into town on the day of the trip, managed to get lost in central Christchurch, and missed the bus. This was a real bummer. I've missed work-type social events before, but usually because I've decided not to go. It feels really different, and quite crap, to miss something just because I'm too stupid to find a pub. I did find it in the end, but was just too late. Which is even worse...
It doesn't sound like I missed out on all that much - apparently the bus went round a strange route, through pokey areas out in the sticks, stopping at weird country pubs. But still... Mostly, it would have been an opportunity to spend some time outside of work with the young lady who persuaded me to go in the first place. Never mind...
I'm being called on to step up as Union Rep to push an issue at work involving log service leave and our collective contract. And I don't really care about it. There is a guy on nightshift, our electrician, who has apparently read some notice from the local Union organiser that says the Union will not be pushing to get people who have been at GC for five years a fifth week of annual leave. That is, Log Service leave at GC has been an extra 5 days of leave after 5 years continuous service. Which in practice has meant 4 weeks of leave instead of 3. With the amendment to the Holidays Act, the company has said that the extra 5 days will simply become part of the 4 weeks leave that are now standard. Which, understandably, has upset a lot of people. I don't quite understand where our Union organiser is coming from, saying it won't be contested, as in the contract the wording is quite clear - Long Service leave is an additional 5 days above the provisions of the Holidays Act. So if the Holidays Act now requires at least 4 weeks leave, an additional 5 days makes 5 weeks. I don't really see how the company can argue against that, but apparently they are. But anyway, the electrician has sent fairly angry e-mails to our organiser, called the Union office in Auckland, and various other things, then someone has told him that I'm the Union rep in Comms. He isn't specifically part of the Comms department, but the only other union rep on nightshift is even less with it than me, so I'm the one copping all the flak. He wants me to put forward or at least support a vote of no confidence in the district organiser, and "get my fucking act together" with all the other union delegates across the site and shifts to do something about all this. I pretty much feel like telling him to get fucked and punching him in the face. He may have some valid points, but he just gets on my nerves. Plus I've seen the rest of the correspondence from the district organiser, and it basically says that the matter is still up for debate and is being analysed by the Union legal team. The original notice was fairly crap, but it was from a while back, and things seem to have moved on since then. Which is what annoys me - the electrician is making this a huge issue without actually paying much attention to what anyone else is actually saying. He's got this one idea in his head and won't let it go. Dick...
The last thing that's been getting me down is stranding. Because I'm losing interest in work in general, the only area I particularly want to work is insulating, as it's something I can do pretty much on autopilot, without much real effort. Which in itself is quite funny, as it's probably one of the most complicated jobs in Comms. But I guess it's just what you spend the most time doing, you get very good at. But yeah, this week just past I've been stuck in stranding, because it's almost the end of the month and we need to get all our deliveries out, so thigs are a bit rushed in the back end of the process. I don't really have any legitimate complaint to make - I'm trained to do the job, and it's where I'm most needed - but still, it just sucks, because I fucking hate stranding.
This seems to be a very long post, so I'll leave it there. I think I'm going to go drive somewhere...

Sick

This has been one of the worst weekends I've had in ages. It started well - I went for a walk into town to check out a car I'm interested in buying, then walked home and went out again to do some shopping, and joined a new video store. I haven't rented any DVDs for ages - I had something of a difference of opinion with my regular store, and have decided never to go there again. Basically, I rented a movie and when I got home there was no disc in the cover. I went straight back and told them, and then like a month later I received a letter from them telling me that they had tried to contact me on numerous occasions (I'm not sure how - there were no missed messages on my cellphone and I was home every day without hearing the phone ring) and that they were sure the disc was in the cover, and that I now owed them $45. So I basically decided, "Fuck those guys," and never went back there. Then they sent me another letter telling me that they would sick a debt collection agency on me for the $45 and screw up my credit rating. Wankers... So I paid the bill, and then they sent me another letter, thanking me for paying and offering me a free new release next time I came to the store. Surprisingly, after basically being called a thief and a liar, I wasn't really interested...

But back to this weekend. I sat down to watch Spiderman 3 (not bad - pretty much what I'd expected) on Saturday afternoon, and about half way through my stomach started making some very strange gurgling noises. Now, there have been a couple of people at work who've had a nasty stomach bug, so I was a little worried (One guy said he was "shitting and spewing everywhere."). And about ten minutes later, I was in the bathroom. There was some general unpleasantness in the bottom area (although I didn't shit everywhere - just in the toilet) followed by a fairly substantial amount of vomit. Not the nicest thing to write about, I know, but this was my weekend... So I spent pretty much the rest of Saturday afternoon and evening lying on the floor in the bathroom, waiting to explode at either end. I had a duvet and cushion, so it wasn't too bad. All up I was sick about 5 times, and it was that really intense, muscles cramping, gasping for breath sick, too. And I was reminded of something I saw on 30 Rock - a couple of women who live alone discussing the possibility of dying in some stupid way because there isn't anyone around to help you. I could just imagine me choking on my vomit, left slumped against the toilet for days before anyone really started to worry. What a horrible way to go...

Scary Movies

I was thinking last night about horror films and being genuinely scared. For me, the discovery of horror films as entertainment was an unexpected path to freedom. Freedom from fear. This is probably pretty weird, but up until about the age of 13 or 14 I used to be absolutely terrified some nights when I went to bed of "things" that would get me while I slept. I remember it most clearly from when we were living in Pakuranga. This is embarrassing to admit, but I used to pull the covers down as tight as possible over my head, leaving a tiny breathing space, so that these "things" wouldn't notice me. I would try and lie as flat as possible in my bed, so as to make it appear empty. And that's not the bad part. While my brother and I shared a room, my reasoning was that if I was the least noticeable of the pair of us, he would be "got" first, and I would have an opportunity to run. It all seems so bizarre. I knew in the back of my mind that there wasn't anything there to attack me, I think, but I was still terrified. And I'm not really sure what the "things" were. I think they were basically just bad people. But magnified drastically to the level of true horrors, that would hack me to pieces and eat my parts. The worst of it looking back now is that I was genuinely planning to sacrifice my brother so that I could escape. Despicable... And there I was calling Mary crazy last week.
But getting back to horror films, when a friend of mine introduced me to the whole experience of enjoying horror, from what the films actually were to appreciating how they were made, all that evil, negative shit that haunted my nights just faded. I guess it could just be a part of maturing, growing up, but the timing of the changes is about right. And actually, it wasn't just my brother. In third form when friends stayed over on occasion I saw them as potential monster bait too.
What got me thinking about all this was listening to the soundtrack for 28 weeks later. It is an awesomely creepy, atmospheric work. I was listening to it in the dark, sitting in front of my computer just sorting out my mp3 collection, and it was enough to have me checking over my shoulder occasionally to see if there was anyone else there. I think that listening to it on headphones enhanced the creepiness, but it's brilliant.
What else? I saw Mary again just in passing the other day. I dropped my car off to get it's warrant at a local garage at 7:30 on Friday morning and walked home. As I walked past the street where Mary lives, I saw her riding along the footpath on the ten speed bike I saw in her lounge. I think she was singing, and was dressed exactly as she was when I last met her. Fortunately she was going in the other direction and didn't see me. Although I suspect that with all the medication she had on hand that she may not remember me anyway.
Oh, and I've been watching a new series - Torchwood. It's a spin-off from the latest Doctor Who series, and I think it's absolutely brilliant. I've watched the first six episodes, and it is definitely one of the best things I've seen in ages. It's the same sort of feeling I had about Heroes when I first started watching that. I highly recommend it...

More on Mary

I was just looking back over my last post, and I don't know that I conveyed quite how crazy (although very nice) Mary was.
I mean, apart from the approaching strangers on the street and inviting them in for coffee...
The key crazy thing she told me was that she hears voices. She was very matter of fact about it, and told me that it was one of the things she was taking medication for. She said that it was different voices, changing with the houses she lived in. Apparently the strongest voice in her current residence was making death threats toward her. It kept saying "I want her dead." But she found this very reassuring, and she was worried when she didn't hear it, because it was instrumental in keeping her on the straight and narrow, and keeping her from going back to drug use. She was that crazy...
She also said that she would appreciate any help I could offer in the future, in terms of protection (although she didn't specify from what) and that she would say hello to me if she saw me in the street and that I was welcome to visit any time. I don't know that I'll be taking her up on that offer...
And when I left she told me to finish my coffee and be on my way, for my own protection (again, she didn't say from what). Very, very weird. But on the whole, if my stopping in and listening to her for half an hour made her happier, then it seems worth the little slice of time it took out of my day. It's where doing good things for people is really selfish, in a way. Or at least mutually beneficial. She got to tell someone what was going on with her, and I get the satisfying feeling of being in some small way of service to someone. Life can really be pretty damn strange, but it's also strangely entertaining...

Crazy Lady

I have just had a completely surreal experience. It's a lovely day, so I decided to go for a walk. I wandered down as far as Hagley Park, making a detour through the Addington Cemetery. The outward bound trip was fairly ordinary - the cemetery is quite interesting - it was established in 1858, and was the first public cemetery in Christchurch. It is quite run down - some of the graves appear to have subsided or caved in, and many of the headstones were cracked, broken or completely collapsed. But it still had that feel of peace you only get in places like that.
Anyhoo, on the way back down Selwyn Street, there was a middle aged woman on the other side of the road who started shouting at me. I stopped and waited while she crossed the street (walking out in front of a car) and came to talk to me. She asked if I was busy, and if I could spare 20 minutes to have a cup of black coffee (she didn't have any milk). Being the type of person I am, finding it very hard to say no, I went to her house. She promised that nothing untoward would happen to me, but I was still a little nervous as I walked in the door that I might get bashed by some thug-type and have my wallet and things stolen. But that wasn't the case. She was living in a fairly squalid little one bedroom place, half of a house, and it was a real mess. Clothes piled up everywhere, a large stash of various medications on one chair, several full ashtrays, a ten speed bike leaning against the couch. The TV was on, quietly pumping out hymns on the religious channel we have here.
I wasn't feeling too bad about things (although I did watch her make my coffee, just in case...), and we sat in the lounge so we could talk. She asked me some questions about my life, where I was born, what year, how many siblings did I have, that sort of thing. Then, she told me her whole life story. It was quite a tale...
Her name was Mary. The first thing she told me was that she grew up without a father, which she considered to be a significant contributing factor in what she had made of her life. She told me that she had had a son out of wedlock, that he was a beautiful child, now 25 years old. She grew up on the West Coast, in her mother's family house. She left that house to live in a state house in Westport (she didn't say exactly why) and started getting into drugs and alcohol. She had apparently lived all over the world, travelling through England, most of Europe, India and Australia.
She told me that her mother was a psychiatric nurse, and had her committed at some point. She has been in and out of institutions all her life (which is why she had the large pile of medications on hand). Apparently she had lived in Wellington for a while, when she first came back from India in 1977. She said she was on the streets for two weeks, then ended up in Porirua Hospital with cerebral malaria. She was given Electro-Convulsive Therapy for this, which she understands was necessary. She did have a tendency to jump around a little in her story telling, from one period of her life to another. It was fairly apparent that she was very proud of her son. Apparently he has never done anything wrong, and has had two good jobs, one at KFC and one at Subway. And God, how liberating must it be to have a parent who is proud of you for getting a job at a fast food place?
So to sort of wrap things up,she basically told me that her life had been a mess, and that the root cause of most of her problems had been sex, drugs and rock'n'roll. I think that I was supposed to take the story of her life as a message to stay clean, to live a good life because drugs and alcohol lead to misery.
There were other parts to her story - the most recent chapter was her marriage in 1996 to a man named Stan, who, from the sounds of things was an abusive, evil sack of shit. Apparently the marriage lasted 2 years, and she only left him in the end because he beat her nearly to death.
Meeting Mary has done me some good. It was completely bizarre to just get picked up off the street and have someone's entire life story dumped in my lap. I think she just wanted someone to talk to, to make some sort of contact with the world. She told me that she had really needed to get what she told me about Stan off her chest, and thanked me for giving her that opportunity.
What was really of benefit to me, I guess, was seeing just how much life can fuck you up, and realising just how good my life really is. Sometimes I feel down because I'm alone, but on the whole, I have family who love me, a good job, and very few tangible concerns. Compared to some lives, I am incredibly lucky. And if someone like Mary can carry on, and use her life as a message to try and help others, what do I really have to complain about?

Movies

I've seen two new movies this weekend - Die Hard 4.0, and The Simpsons Movie. I'd have to say that I wasn't hugely impressed with either.

I did quite enjoy Die Hard 4 - the story wasn't bad with what the baddies were up to and all, and the dialogue had the same feel to it as the first one. But the action sequences and stunts were ridiculous. Okay, so it's a film, but still - there were just a few too many points where McClaine should totally have been dead, or where things just didn't make sense. Like the bit where the bad guys redirect all of the gas lines in America to the station where McClaine and his hacker geek pal are. For one thing, it takes only a minute or two for the gas to reach critical levels, and for some inexplicable reason, it is all on fire and exploding as it travels through the pipes. Why the hell was it on fire? Or the bit where a military jet takes out one support for a freeway overpass thing while trying to blow up a truck, and the entire structure collapses like a chain of dominoes. It just doesn't make any sense. There are quite a few movies aroud these days where the makers seem to have decided that things should be as spectacular as possible, and common sense, physics and the intelligence of audiences be damned. I just think it's astounding that in the process of making a film like this, no one watches the dailies and thinks "Hang on, that is just too fucking stupid, even for an action film." Even some of the smaller things like running someone over with an SUV, and having them bounce up onto the windshield rather than get knocked over and go under the vehicle. Shit like that bugs me.

And The Simpsons Movie - it wasn't bad, it had some funny moments - but on the whole it felt like an extended episode of the TV show. Which isn't too surprising, I guess... But the thing that sucks is that it felt like an extended episode of the recent series, which I didn't really like. They seem to have really hooked into the pattern of Homer doing something retarded, Marge leaving him, and then things eventually coming right. I just don't see that as funny. I don't know - it never even occured to me that there should be a big screen transition for this show. It is a great show on the whole - although the last two seasons have been a bit so-so. Urrgh, this is somewhat disjointed. I don't really know what I'm getting at here. Except that basically, I think they should consider retiring the Simpsons soon. I read an article in Empire about the maknig of the film, and they said that they would continue making the show until they run out of jokes. I think they kinda ran out of original material a while ago, and that perhaps they should give it a rest. The other thing that sucks is that I really quite liked Futurama, which I think still had a reasonable amount of life left in it, and that got cancelled.

Oh, bollocks - I can't be bothered writing any more about all this.

In general, life is much the same as ever - I haven't been called on to do anything more as union rep recently. They have arranged a date for my first training course though - it's on my birthday. Bum... But that's a Tuesday, So i'm looking at going up north to visit my folks in the preceding weekend. I have been working quite a lot of overtime of late, as we are short two operators in the insulating department, and I could do with a break.

Anyhoo, it's a lovely day outside, so I'm going to go have a shower, and then maybe wander down to Hagley park and enjoy the sunshine.

Apologies

Okay, I just read my previous post, and felt I should apologise for the wasy it deteriorated. I can barely remember writing it, to be honest. I was feeling a little blurgh last Saturday and had a few drinks to make myself feel better. Or at least so I didn't care so much about feeling a bit off. On top of being really tired, this lead to the mess that last post became.

At any rate, what I was getting at with the guy from Mains is that he kept asking my co-worker if they could explain why their pattern of sick leave usage had improved in the last three months. The whole thing was nonsense - the "pattern" that we were discussing was one Sunday a month between February and April this year. And the person still had sick leave in hand - admittedly only four hours, but it still seems a bit crap to hassle someone for using their sickleave. Although this is where I find things difficult - I can see where the company is coming from, and I have a different attitude toward things like sick leave than most of the staff.

To me, sick leave is a necessity, something that should be used only when really needed. Most people at work treat it like a right, like it should be used in the same way as holiday pay. Like they look at how much they have accumulated, and decide "Well, I'd better have a day off sick soon because I've got lots of sick leave just sitting there." I prefer to let it accumulate, because you never know when you might catch some sort of lurgy, and need real time off that isn't covered by ACC or whatnot. Plus there is the point the Mains production leader was making - that if you have a family, you never know when you may need to use your sick leave to look after other people. Although that was a good point, he was still cock... A really overbearing, striaght-talking SOB.

The meeting had a fair amount of fallout - the union rep on dayshift got all upset about the Mains person being there, and had a go at our Production Leader, and complained to the Factory Manager. Personally, while it was a mess, I didn't see it as that big a deal. BUt i did get the impression that the person who was being talked to was a little intimidated, which I should have put a stop to. But in the end, I had a good chat with them, and explained where the company was coming from, and told them to just forget about the Mains guy because he had absolutely no influence in proceedings. And then later in the shift, When the uber boss turned up, we had a very brief meeting with him in which all he said was just keep an eye on your time off, and that was it. He also said that he rated the person in question as a real worker, which I thought was good point, because they are a fairly solid member of the team. And they felt much better anout everything after that, and we all lived happily ever after... Well, the rest of the week went smoothly, at any rate.

And now, I'm off to have breakfast at my sister's place. Well, I'm going to have a shower, go to the supermarket and pick up some bacon and things, then go to my sisters place. Mmmm, bacon...

Shop stewarding...

Well, I've had three meetings now in my official capacity as union rep, or "shop steward." Two were related to the same thing, a person at work who has caused some concern about the patterns of time off they have established. I found this interesting on several levels. The initial meeting was a complete mess. Our production leader was feeling a little unsure about things, so he invited the teamleader from Mains to sit in. The teamleader from Mains is an overbearing, bullyboy type. So the meeting was dominated by this bloke. The guy from Mains asked some stupid questions, and gave some great examples of shit from his own experience. The best of these was explaining why sickleave is so important. He fucking biollopcks ,...., I's ytired... g'noght/// i mean g'night...
Right, I've just had a nap, so where was I? Let's see...

Yeah, sick leave. The guy from aMains's example was one of his team who's wife had cancer. ass... Oh, bnloody hell... At any rate , the boosss type from Maind was ana sshooellwe, qho made trhe wmeetiong shit, and I didn't like him cos he was cock.

addendum

Erm, not much to say, except that the reason I put Yarp in as the last posts title was that I have just watched Hot Fuzz again on DVD, and absolutely loved it. It probably isn't quite as good as Shaun of the Dead (at least to my tastes) but it is still brilliant. Oh yeah, and my sister introduced me to vanilla flavoured Crazy Faces biscuits yesterday while I was helping look after my nephew, and they are delicious. They taste just like Girl Guide biscuits, which I have always really liked. Buttocks...

Okay, I put buttocks in as a finish to this post, but there was one more thing I wanted to mention. Flight of the Conchords. They are one of the funniest things I hav ever listened to. In the last week I have listened to the BBC radio series of theirs like four or five times. It is really cool to wander around work with a huge grin on my face...

Yarp...

Blurgh, that son of a bitch John Keys was just on the news. I really can't stand him. There are two things that just get on my nerves about him and the National Party these days.

Basically the main thing about Mr Keys that pisses me off is his everyman, came form humble beginnings thing. I don't care if his family were poor when he was growing up, I think that the fact that he is now a multi-millionaire living in a mansion and holidaying in Hawaii kind of shows that he isn't necessarily in touch with the lives of poor New Zealanders any more. He is basically a rich bastard, who likes to be all "I came from nothing and made a go of it, so anyone should be ale to do the same." Sanctimonious son of a bitch... Not all people can find that path to riches. Some of the world have to work hard just to get by.

But my biggest gripe is with the National Party in general. It has become a poofy, full of shit "Yes" party, with no apparent stance of its own. I am not in the least bit surprised that National is ahead in the polls these days - they simply change their opinion and policies to suit whatever any group has to say. Like with the media rights in Parliament. National supported the amendments to the rules for media coverage of parliament at first, but when it turned out that the public didn't like it, they did an immediate about face. And that's all they ever do. I haven't seen a clear policy statement from National in a long time. Any position they take now is invariably altered within days to suit whatever will win them votes. Frankly, I'd rather have a party in power that actually has an agenda than just some sacks of shit that'll change the running of the nation to suit whatever group makes the biggest fuss...

And on a personal front - things are much the same. Wokrk is still work-like. Being elected as Shop Steward for night shift hasn't had any impact whatsoever. Although I have had the opportunity to just sit around and talk bollocks with the day shift union rep and call it a union meeting... But basically the night shift staff all just kind of get on with their jobs and don't cause a fuss, so there isn't a great deal to do as union rep. Which is probably cool, as I don't really know what I'm supposed to be doing anyway.

Back to the political thing, when John Keys took over form Don Brash as head of the National Party, he immediately reversed Naitonals position on race relations. He basically went agianst the Orewa speech made by Dr Brash. Now, that's fine, and basically good, as the Orewa speech was an infalmmatory, racist crock of shit. But the thing is, while the head of the snake has changed, National is still the same animal. So what Don brash said several years ago shouldn't be forgotten just because a smiley, friendly son of a bitch has replaced him. John Keys makes my flesh crawl...

Dreams

I never really seem to remember my dreams. I think this is at least partly because I tend to sleep only when I'm really exhausted, so I crash into a very deep sleep fairly quickly. I don't know if that exactly makes sense, as dreams come in REM sleep, I think, so my deep sleep should be quite good for dreaming. Although that's the thing that annoys me - I often wake up with a sense that I was dreaming something quite wonderful, but unable to recall what it was. There's a weird sense of loss in not being able to remember my dreams...

There is one dream, from my childhood, that when I think back on it is as fresh as it was when I was five or six. It's from when my family were living in Wellington, in Whitby. There's me, and my cousin, and some other kids around. And for whatever reason, we're talking about flying. Now, I know that flying dreams are quite common, but this one seemed weird to me. Perhaps that's why it's stuck with me. Anyway, as we are talking about flying, I tell my cousin that it's really easy, that you just have to walk into the air. Then I demonstrate - I walk up into the air like climbing a staircase. As I ascend, I feel a lightness of body and freedom of mind, a state of almost euphoria... And then I get to the top of the invisible staircase. This is where it always seems a little more weird than I'm comfortable with. I think I had this dream quite a few times when I was young, and there were two ends to it. In one, I get to the top of my climb, and can just feel that there are no more stairs, and nowhere to go. So I stand in frozen panic, not wanting to step out onto empty air and fall back to earth. And it isn't concern about being hurt - it's an acute sense of embarassment, That the other people below me will laugh. This tended to be where I'd wake up, feeling... I don't know. Funny, but whatever emotion was left with me on waking hasn't stuck.

The other end of this was reaching the top of the stairs and simply stepping out into space, then swooping away into the air, feeling the world drop away and just being free and happy. I much preferred this ending, but it was less common.

I dion't know if this says much of anything about what sort of child I was, or what sort of person I am. But from 33 years of sleep, it is the only dream that has stuck with me.

Work

I've been on dayshift for the last three weeks. This is because I was nominated to go on a Lean Sigma Yellow Belt training course. Lean Sigma is looking at the maufacturing process and running of things and trying to get the maximum return from any investment of time amd resources. Which is a roundabout way of saying making as much cash as possible with available resources. It's all about the money...

Apparently those of us who were nominated are considered to be people who will make use of the skills and tools the course provides. We are people who are expected to either run or facilitate kaizen events. This is fine, and I have found the theory of statistical analysis and things like value mapping quite interesting. The only problem I may have is coming up with ideas for improvement. But I figure that even if I don't come up with much stuff, I can at least help other people with good ideas follow the right process to realise their goals. Urgh, that sounds a bit too much like Tony Robins life-coach stuff...

I was supposed to be going back to nightshift next week, which I was kinda looking forward to. Dayshift is okay, but even after three weeks I still think it's easier to stay up all night and sleep during the day than get up at half past five in the morning. Also all the boss type guys are wandering around during the day, so it's very hard to relax. But now I'm spending one more week on days, so I can attend the Union delegates meeting on Thursday. Yesterday someone at work asked me if I was permanently on days now, and when I told them I was going back to nights next week they asked me if I would like to be the union delegate for nightshift. Apparently they have been looking for someone to take on the role for quite a while, but hadn't found anyone they thought would be able to do the job without pushing their personal agenda too much. I'm not quite sure what to make of that. I guess that I seem like a guy without an axe to grind, and genuinely interested in the running of things. Strangely, I'm quite looking forward to it. Most of what the union delegates do at GC is mediate between management and staff, and I like doing that. I like to work through things. The only thing that worries me is that apparently when the person who approached me checked with nightshift people to see if someone would nominate me and if I was generally acceptable, they were all really keen on the idea. This is kinda cool - that people see me as capable of representing them - but also quite worrying as I suspect it means that there may be some issues people want adressed right away. Of course, the other side of it is that not many people would be daft enough to vounteer for the role, but what the hell - the worst that can come of it is I suck and I stop doing it. But it's another opportunity to do something new, so I'll give it a go. And apparently I get to go to courses on dispute resolution, and mediation and things at the EPMU office in town. That should be cool...

Well, that's enough for now. I'm going to go and do... something.

Another Friday afternoon...

Yes, it's the end of my working week. Yes? Anyways... Fridays are always a bit weird - I tend to stay up all day after I finish work, so by this stage I've been awake for about twenty two and a half hours. And by this evening when I go to bed, it'll be probably around thirty two hours. And by that stage I'll be into another awake period as my body is sort of adjusted to the whole night shift thing, so I'll want to stay up even longer... This is the way most of my Fridays go. Although to be honest if I'm sitting around watching TV or whatever I tend to drift in and out of a light sleep. Anyhoo...

I've just been to see 28 weeks later. It was... good? I don't know how to explain what I thought of it. Weird... I came out of it with the feeling that it was a really visceral experience. It was definitely cool, and I would say at least the equal of its predecessor. The only thing that I didn't really like was some of the camera work. There are several points in the film when the infected are attacking people that the camera goes into either "infect-o-vision," where it is mounted on the shoulder of one of the running infected with no apparent shock absorbing equipment and jerks crazily around in a less than pleasant manner, or I guess they were trying to capture the feel of terror and panic so the camera and lighting swing wildly about so that you can't really tell what the hell is going on. Frankly, this just got on my nerves after a while. Perhaps it would have been better if I wasn't so tired. But basically, I enjoyed the film. I think Spiderman 3 will be the next thing to see...

I'm glad to hear that my brother likes the t-shirt I sent him. I've always thought that particular design was quite cool. I just hope it fit him, because otherwise it's just a cool looking piece of cloth.

On a completely different tack, why the hell is it that most people don't know the difference between their computer as a whole (as in the case and all it's contents) and a hard drive? Someone was telling me about some computer problems they've been having, and they kept going on about their hard drive. Like, "Aw, I'm gonna take my fuckin' hard drive apart and put in a bigger CD-Writer." Surprise surprise, it's the same genius with the cat thing and the terrible grammar. The big box thing is the computer. the small storage device inside is the hard drive. It's not that hard...

Well it's now late on Friday night. I fell asleep earlier then went over to Shirley to hang with my Moms. I am tired. I will now stop this. Bon nuit...

Ramblings

I'm not entirely sure I have anything to write about at the moment. I was sitting here reading my brothers blog and felt like adding to mine. But now I don't know exactly what I was going to write...

Work is plodding along as it usually does. There have been no negative reports of my drunken antics surface in the last week. I have endured some slight ribbing about my fall from the stage, but it is all good-natured. And while the whole "being an f'n legend," thing has died down, I now get a higher level of greeting from some of the "cool" people at work.

The genius who used his calculator to work out the age of his aunt's cat continues to impress me. His daughter, who he had with his teenage ex-girlfriend and has now severed all responsibility for because she has been adopted by the ex-girlfriends new partner (this is a bit complicated, but not the worst of this persons problems) is apparently now "moving around more fastly." And the spell check has underlined fastly as incorrectly spelled. I wonder why that is? I can't exactly remember what other assaults this person has made on good grammar and spelling, but it generally makes me wince just listening to him. Which is interesting, because although most of the people at my work are highschool drop outs, people who entered the workforce at 16 or 17, they tend to be quite well spoken (apart from the swearing). I suppose this is at least in part because while the work we do doesn't necessarily require a particularly high level of education, it does require a reasonable level of intelligence. And intelligent people do sound different. Although I suppose technical aptitude and a good grasp of language and grammar don't need to go together...

I think I might go and get some sleep now. Get some sleep? That doesn't sound quite right. I'm at that point of tiredness where putting together a coherent sentence is actually a challenge. And trying to type accurately makes it even more so. More so of a challenge, that is. What was I saying earlier about butchering english? oh, bugger it...

Getting older... Not growing up.

For the first time in a very long time, I went out on Saturday night. Someone at work has a sister who is heading over to the UK, and they were having a farewell party, so they invited everyone from work. It was at a reasonably cool karaoke bar in town.

And I'm now 33 years old, but still drinking and "socialising" in very much the same manner I did when I was in my teens. Which is to say I got reasonably drunk at home beforehand, had far too much to drink at the bar, did some foolish things I can't entirely remember and generally entertained the people I was with with my silly drunken antics.

Highlights I can remember are things like:

Singing Paradise City with someone else. I don't exactly know how I ended up on the stage - as far as I can recall, I was wandering past and someone gave me a mike and told me I was going to sing. And in my fairly inebriated state, I basically thought "fuck it," and belted out my best Axl Rose. Unfortunately, at the end of the song I fell off the stage, but this seemed to provoke as much cheering and laughter as my singing, so I guess it wasn't so bad. Or possibly my singing was really awful... I didn't hurt myself, at any rate.

Dancing with girls. This portion of the evening is a little hazy, but I do seem to recall getting my groove on, and that the dance floor was mostly occupied with members of the opposite sex. This was probably cool. I'm not entirely sure... They were all smiling a lot, any ways...

Wandering through town with a group of people from work and feeling like a real part of the group, not some strange interloper. I guess whatever your comparative levels of intelligence or social backgrounds, alcohol can act as a great equaliser. Basically we were all hammered (although I suspect I was at the sort of sledgehammered end of the drunk scale) and talking bollocks and generally having fun. It was great.

There are significant chunks of the evening that I don't remember at all, though. Apparently I was introduced to "lots of nice girls," by someone from work. It seems a shame that I can't recall what any of them looked like, or if they were cool, or basically any part of this introductory period. Apparently I spent some time talking to a blonde girl with glasses at the bar, after she sang "Insane in the Membrane," much to my co-workers amusement. What was amusing, I may never know... But oh well, never mind.

The general upshot of all this is that I had a good night out, and people at work seem to have revised their view of me quite substantially. As far as I can tell, People have seen me thus far as a quiet, fairly reserved guy. Nice, but not very talkative. Now I'm things like "a fuckin legend," for being as drunk as I was and still functional, and "a bloody good sort." This is cool. I now have a "reputation." And having made about as much of an ass of myself as I possibly could in front of these people, I can now feel free to continue to be a drunken fool at any social/work function. Which is the other cool thing - everybody had a really good time, and they are all keen to do it again. So it's been 14 months, but I finally have a group of people to hang out with, at least occasionally. And generally speaking, they are all good people.

LOT

Blurgh, it's twenty past four on a Saturday and I've only been awake for about half an hour. I worked overtime last night. There are some very good things about O/T, and some definite bad points. On the plus side, obviously there's the money, and Friday night is a very relaxed evening at work. there are no boss-types around, so as long as the machines are running you can do pretty much whatever you want. Also on the money side, O/T increases your holiday pay rate. I was getting paid more over Christmas while on holiday than in an average week at work.
On the other hand, I basically don't really feel like I have a weekend now. I've just slept through half of Saturday, and I'll be going back to work tomorrow night. It's the one really pants thing about night shift. But what the hell, I still have this evening. And tomorrow during the day. I just find it hard to relax with the shadow of work looming in the evening, even if it isn't till 11 at night.
On a different work-related note, I keep getting additional responsibilities and things. Apparently the management team seem to think that I will enjoy the challenge of different areas, and that I'm the right person for some of the admin stuff. What is it about me that people seem to think that I need more stimulus? Do I look bored?
Anyhoo, I'm now a backup for matrixing, which isn't as fun as I could imagine it to be, but involves taking all the allocated jobs for each week and working out what multiples of spools and colours are required from each department. Like how many metres of, say, white cable are required for a job, how much of the type of cable will fit on a spool by looking at the cable diameter, and working out how much extra will be required for scrap as it goes through different processes. This is as boring and as annoying as it sounds. And management seem to think I'll like doing this. Apparently I'm good at maths. I don't know where they got that idea from...
The other new thing I'm doing is the TOC management. This is a little scary, as the person who currently does it is going to Malaysia for two months, so I'll be entirely responsible for it. And it's the basic management of the flow of work through the plant, making sure that all departments are doing what they need to on time, and that everything is running smoothly. Big responsibility stuff. I haven't even asked if there's more money in it.
But it seems that I somehow make people think I'm this capable, intelligent guy who wants to rise up the company ladder. When in reality I'd be quite happy to just schlep about on the shop floor with everybody else. But I find it very hard to say no to this extra stuff, and I am capable of doing it, so what the hell...

The Smoko Hut

This'll have to be brief, as I'm cooking breakfast. But I was just thinking about the different conversations I've walked in on in the smoko hut over the last little while. The range of thiungs and some of the unbelievably stupid things people say.

Over the course of one evening, with three breaks, there was:

Guys discussing their best car accidents, and how many demerit points they have, and how many times they have lost their licences. I was surprised to find that I'm one of the few of the younger crowd who hasn't had some sort of major traffic violation (ranging from serious accidents yo massive speeding fines). I have had one accident - just a fender bender, but it was horrible, and put me off driving for months. But at the cinema in Mount Maunganui, there were a few people who had lost their licences too. The old manager did something bad enough to lose it in one hit, apparently (I heard it was basically speeding, but it was like doing 130 km/h in an 80 km/h zone), and there were a couple of girls who were picked up for drink driving. So perhaps it's just a cultural thing. or perhaps it's just that there are so many more young people driving these days. When I was in Hamilton and Wellington, very few people I knew had cars or drove much. These days it seems that as soon as kids are old enough to get their licence, they get a car. I think it's crazy. Most young folks are far too reckless and foolhardy to be driving. And the days used to be longer, and the sky more blue, and Yarrr...

Sorry about that, I seem to have been affected by crotchitty old man syndrome.

But anyways, going out to the hut a couple of hours later, I found two electricians, who were discussing comets, meteors, the nature of empty space and the amount of random matter floating about that could potentially lead to a catastrophic event on earth, black holes, and theories on the nature of reality. A bit of an intellectual shift from the last break. And interesting in that the facts they brought up were actually fairly accurate unlike some other people...

Which leads to the last vreak, which will be quick - probably the stupidest of the day, and the gem of this period of conversation was about cats. Someone was discussing a cat their aunt had, saying that it was really old, like 14 years, and then explaining that one cat year is worth twenty human years. Twenty! Bloody hell... They then used the calculator on their mobile phone to work out that this made their aunt's cat the equivalent of two hundred and eighty human years old. Amazing...

Back at Work

Well, I've been back at work for about a month now. Christmas was great - but I found it hard to get back into work-mode, especially with my parents coming down here to deal with my Grandmother. Having them around and doing family stuff made it feel distinctly like I was still on vacation. Which is pretty cool, until you have to go to work. But that's always the case, isn't it? Most of life is relatively good until you have to got work. Roll on retirement, I say. Only thirty two years to go... Although I suspect that by the time I'm 65, the retirement age will have been pushed back some, with general health improvements and things. Unless of course we are all just relaxing and letting robot slaves do all the work... But on the subject of retirement, I can join the company superannuation scheme this month. I've been at General Cable for almost a year, which is the period required for membership of the super scheme and I think health insurance, too. It seems like a very mature and adult thing to be considering joining a super scheme. I don't feel particularly mature or like much of an adult in general, so going into something like this is weird. On the other hand, I'm not exactly as young as I used to be (well of course...) so making some decisions about the future is a good idea.

I got a set of golf clubs for Christmas, but haven't put them to much use yet. I guess I wasn't really thinking about the type of person I am when I got them. It seemed like a really good idea at the time, that I could get out and take a stroll and whack a ball around. It seemed like it would be a great way to spend a day. But of course, I'm not the sort of person who'll do this sort of thing on my own, and the only person in town who plays golf is my brother-in-law, and he's a reasonably accomplished golfer, so I don't know that he really wants to head out with a complete noob like me. There is a golf thing at work, a bunch of guys tour around the local clubs throughout the year, and I would like to join this when it is up and running again. But I have my usual problem in that I'm not very good, and I find it almost impossible to do things in a public arena unless I'm feeling very comfortable. But despite all of this, I love my golf clubs - they are just cool, and they represent the potential for me to do something good. And that potential is enough to make me happy, for now.