Beyond the Threshold.

Film Trailers

2010-03-19T15:48:00.002Z

I've decided I love film trailers. I've been to the cinema a reasonable amount lately and I seem to be getting dissappointed more and more often. I find it very hard to believe I'm growing up and my taste is maturing. I spend most of my working day ripping into the guys I work with and slating their mum, girlfriend , wife, hamster.

But I've never been dissappointed by a trailer. Sure they haven't reflected the film when I've been to see it but thats the film not living up to the trailer, not the other way round.

But I watch a trailer and I get all excited by the possibilities of the next big upcoming blockbuster.

Misery

2009-10-12T15:27:00.002+01:00

I've got some sort of a chest infection at the moment which means as well as coughing like a 60 a day smoker, my childhood athsma comes wheezing out of the cupboard to haunt me. I've now had this for over a week, I can't run, I can't ride and I'm miserable.

Some friends ran their first race this weekend (Herts 10K) which I'd been training like a bastard for and had to pullout of due to the aformentioned non functioning lungs and it was great to see them complete it and quickly start talking about what they're going to do next (Willow Foundation 10K in November) but god it sucks standing on the sidelines (wheezing) watching other people running when I can't.

This is an elaborate cold, how do people who used to be sporty and now have got something seriously wrong with them that stops them doing stuff, get up every morning? I like to think if the unthinkable were ever to happen I'd rise to the challenge and make a life for myself doing what I can.

But going on what a miserable pillock I am now after just one week I wouldn't hold out a lot of hope.

Lots to do

2009-08-20T10:51:00.002+01:00

I've got loads I want to do, plenty I should do and none of it seems to be getting done.

I've got a half day at a circus school learning lassooing, whip cracking and knife throwing. It's all paid for I've just got to get off my arse and set a date.

Its my 40th birthday in November and I can't be arsed to arrange anything.

I haven't had a holiday, I'm kind of tempted to do a week long ride (coast to coast or something similar) but it needs so much organising.

I'm meant to be ploughing my way through books for an MCSE.

Then theres all the work that needs doing on the house.

Now people are talking to me about booking stuff for next summer. My brain can't cope with thinking that far ahead.

2009-03-23T18:06:00.002Z

Ow! Am back home after a brief stay in Watford hospital. One minute I'm going to bed and everythings normal, then I'm in hospital being prodded and poked by a steady stream of strangers, the next I'm at home shambling round like a geretratric.
Apparently my appendix (an organ I used less often than a Daily Mail reader uses their brain) was unhappy with it's living quarters and demanded to be rehomed. The whole process has a slightly surreal feel about it (and thats before the introduction of various high end narcotics). On the one hand here I am home less than a week since the first symptoms presented themselves and on the other it already seems an age ago and I'm bored senseless and am desperately craving a run or a ride.
The one thing I do know is I love every single one of the members of staff in the Acute Admissions Unit in Watford hospital. The ward had only been open a few days and was being staffed by nurses from Watford and Hemel Hempstead none of who knew where anything was or who did what. But day or night, there they were, always helpful and always smiling. I've always respected them but I now feel even less able to moan about my job.

I'm Back

2009-02-19T09:36:00.002Z

Hello world (or whoever is bored enough to be reading this drivel) I'm not sure what excuses such an extended gap between postings:
1. A death in the family
2. Unemployment
3. Alien abduction

Thankfully I've experienced none of the above (although my butt does hurt) so it must be down to sheer laziness. I'll make more of an effort in future.

I've got enough friends thank you.

2008-12-03T18:53:00.006Z

What is it about Christmas that everyone I work with wants to be my friend?

I work in an in house IT Support department so spend my day apologising to people (and I use the term people in the broadest possible sense) for things they've done through a combination of stupidity, impatience and arrogance. I'm sure they highly skilled individuals but put them in front of a piece of technology and they have intellect of a lobotomized ape.

Now it's Christmas though and everyone wants to be everyone's friend. I don't hang out with these people for 50 weeks of the year, why now do they all want to be my friends? I've got nothing against them personally (well not all of them) but all we've got in common is we're trapped in the same god forsaken building for 37 hours a week. During the week I'm paid to listen to them drone on but why would I want to spend my free time with them?

Incidentally I know you've already thought it but, yes I have got friends and yes they are real.

The other criticism I get is 'why do you hate Christmas?' I don't, I love Christmas, the presents, the excessive eating and drinking, the crappy television, not being at work. It's just I don't want to spend it with the same people who spend their working day making my life more difficult than it needs to be.

There is truly only one good thing about the Christmas period at work, when I explain to people that I don't want to take part in the staff drinks/meal/party/pantomime (yes they're really writing a pantomime) is the hurt look they get, like you've just told them they're parents left them on the doorstep of an orphanage not because they couldn't look after them but just because they couldn't be arsed.

Stop! It's the Police!

2008-11-29T17:10:00.003Z

A moment of (I think) weirdness. This afternoon I got stopped by the police whilst walking home from taking the dog for a walk in the local woods. They were on a "High Visibility Anti-Burglary Patrol" and asked what I was doing (duh) and where I was going. They then asked me for some ID and this is where it got a bit weird because I had none. The policeman seemed quite confused and even explained to me "most people have got some form of ID on them."

Now I've got no problem with the Police, I don't even mind the occasional random stop if it makes some little scrote think twice about pinching my car or breaking into my house. But do people really carry their passport and driving licence when they take the dog for a walk? Maybe they do and I'm the weird one.

Anyway, I pointed out I had been walking a dog round a wood and they seemed sufficiently happy to take note of my name,address, date of birth and how long I'd lived there and that's it, the end of my drama for the day.

Although...........right now some super computer at MI6 has probably flagged this post and just because you're reading it alarm bells are ringing and your details are being transferred to a database of potential 'unidentifiable dog walkers'............. or maybe not*.

Phil

*or maybe!

First Post

2008-11-28T14:42:00.004Z

Oh well, welcome to my blog. If you've found this you either know me (lucky old you) or you really need to get out more. I've no idea what drivel I'm going to post in here or how regularly I'm going to update it. I intend to post regularly but intentions have a nasty habit of being just that and never getting beyond being an intention and actually becoming a...erm....thing.

If I had to guess now likely topics are going to be moaning about work ( I work in IT support), bitching about drivers (I cycle to work everyday), complaining about DIY (I'm refurbing a house) and Whingeing about everything else.

Except bikes, I love bikes, specifically mountain bikes. I've been riding for about 18 years now and thanks to bikes I know a fantastic bunch of people (pretty well everyone I know rides), I've been all over this country and a couple of places beyond, I'm fitter than people half my age and I've had the perfect excuse to waste money on shiny things (and the associated tools) that will allegedly make me go faster. But the main reason I love bikes is no matter how bad a day I've had or how stressed out I am, I know all I have to do is throw a leg over my bike and instantly my problems fade away. I stop thinking about a million and one things and all that matters is the next six feet of trail rushing towards me.

Thanks for reading this far and if you do comment be gentle with me.

Phil