Tag: BACK

Round up the usual suspects

I love movies. I love the thrill of them, the cinematography, the way they move you, the way they lift you up and make you soar, or the way they quietly affect you and alter your point of view.

I love big ridiculous blockbusters, loaded with special effects and noises, that don’t care about plot lines or character development, which require you to check your sense of disbelief in at the door.

I love subtle, story-driven movies that pull you along, relying on subtle emotions and plot points to convey a simple message.

I love complex thrillers, twisting and turning, bemusing me as I second guess the next scene, leaving me gasping at the final reveal.

I love old movies, caught in times past, evoking the glamour of Hollywood in lavish technicolour.

There are very few movies I won’t watch. Horror and I don’t get on too well but we have an agreement (I don’t choose to watch them very often, but when I do they try and be smart about how they scare me). And some movies just aren’t really anything, they’re aren’t bad enough to be addictive (all bad things are addictive!) nor good enough to stick in my brain.

I love movies.

Although I fear the tense has changed.

The problem is … and I guess it’s time I confess … well … you see, the thing about movies and I is … well we seem to have had a falling out. One of those “he said”, “she said” arguments that never lead anywhere and start from nothing. I’m not sure how it happened really, I can’t pinpoint it but, well, I guess sometimes you just move on, eh?

Thing is … and don’t tell the movies this… but I kinda miss them, I don’t want to move on. I miss the anticipation, I miss the stories, I miss the happy endings, the sad endings, the laughing and the crying.

Awww to heck with it, movies, if you are out there, and you are listening, please PLEASE COME BACK TO ME!!! Maybe one of my old friends will hear my plea… Shawshank for example, he was always pretty dependable…

Tick Tock

Well I guess I’d better come clean.

The clocks changed on Sunday morning, and we lost an hour because “Spring forward, Fall back”. This is despite the fact that we don’t have “Fall”, we have autumn and the usage of the phrase also ignores the fact that our American brethren changed their clocks a couple of weeks back. Still, mustn’t complain as the nights are now lighter, and much more prone to floating away on the breeze.

From memory I can only recall one time when I missed the changing of the clocks, and thinking about it… yes I’m pretty sure it was my parents fault. There I was, in full Boys Brigade uniform, standing at the Rialto car park wondering why no-one else was there. Scarred for life. Actually, now that I come to think about it that might explain why we are always early for things… hmmmm.

Not wanting to be late for my Sunday morning run, I diligently went round the house late on Saturday night, changing the clocks that need changed, and taking the opportunity to get them all set to the same time (I even phoned the speaking clock, what fun!). Surprisingly, for people who are constantly aware of the time, our clocks all seem to run either fast or slow and over the space of a couple of months they can end up almost five to ten minutes apart. We really should get new clocks.

So, having changed the clocks I set my alarm for 9am as I was out for an early run and knowing I was losing an hour of sleep I thought I’d try to get to bed at a reasonable hour. I sat down at the computer and set an alarm for 11.30pm, knowing fine well I’d run past that by about an hour but that would still give me a good long lie. I do like a long lie on a Sunday.

Well, as you’ve probably guessed by now there was a bit of a hiccup. Yup, that’s right. I’d set the clocks back, not forward.

To make matters worse we only realised this at around midnight which was, and remember I’d already changed the clocks BACK, two o’clock in the morning.

Me is numpty. Official.

Jogging

I have jogged. I did jog. I used to jog on occasion.

Not often though, but that was mainly due to shin splints which hurt like buggery and ultimately put me off the venture each time I try it… now that may be down to my weight, bad form and technique, the wrong trainers, or … er… something genetic. Either way it’s stopped me jogging in the past. Or maybe it was lack of interest and me being an unfit lazy sod. Hard to tell.

We don’t buy our local paper very often, we really should just to know what’s going on, but Louise picked one up last week and I spotted a small notice in it stating that the local council were starting up an “Adult Jogging Class”. Now, is it just me or does anything with ‘Adult’ in the title evoke certain… er… qualities? You know… like “adult themed”… ohh come on… the naughty stuff… wot takes place between two adults. Or, as is more likely these days, between teenagers (ohh hark at me, what a bloody hypocrite!).

Anyway, putting imagery of coital jogging to the back of my mind, I wondered if this might be the key to me finally getting into jogging.

Some background for you, although if you’ve been paying attention and reading this site for a few years you may know this already (god, that sounds awful… “I’ll be quizzing you all on this later! PAY ATTENTION AT THE BACK!!”… comes from having teachers as parents I reckon…). My Dad is/was a P.E. teacher and did his fair share of running before his knees packed in — 10Ks, half marathons and one full marathon — and in my younger days I accompanied him a few times. I know enough about the technicalities of running, and the equipment required.

I’m slightly flat-footed and over-pronate when I run, something you need to know if you are serious about running as the choosing the right running shoe can save you from injury, not that I’m at that stage just yet.

Now, I’ve tried various running plans before but I’ve never gotten past the first couple of weeks due to lack of motivation, time and because there was “something good on the telly”. So I’m hoping this club will provide the kick in the pants I need, and if nothing else I know it’ll bring out my competitive side.

Fingers crossed.

Calendar

Why didn’t someone say! (ohh someone did).

It’s Friday the 13th, people. Avoid ladders, salt, mirrors, cats of dark hues and cracks in the pavement. If you are reading this from your house GO BACK TO BED. If you are reading this in bed don’t rub it in, ya lazy bugger…

Anyway, if you want me I’ll be hiding under my desk (I may venture out for a cake though, it IS Friday after all…).

Cords or Tabs?

Note to self: Yes, your shiny, silver, optical, CORDLESS mouse is lovely and shiny and silver. However please try to remember that it is CORDLESS which means you need to place it BACK on the charging cradle at night. That way, when you come home after work and go upstairs to check your emails, the batteries in your nice shiny, silver, optical CORDLESS mouse might not be dead.

This rendering of your mouse as a paperweight MAY be excused if it were an attempt to show the futility of man’s reliance on technology. However, as it is the result of your own bone-headed forgetfulness you deserve nothing less than a slap upside the head.

Idiot.

P.S. Isn’t it amazing how you can get by just using the TAB key.

P.P.S. Stop talking to yourself. I’ve warned you about this before.