Month: March 2009

bookmark_borderDry your hands

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Just like the Commode Story in Reservoir Dogs, the hand dryer rages and obliterates all other sounds in the room. Unlike that scene I’ve not got a bag of drugs under my arm and there aren’t four rather camp looking, moustachioed American cops with accompanying police dog loitering by the sinks. I think this is mainly because they’d stand out quite a bit given that I’m in the office, which isn’t based in, or even near, America.

That and I don’t go many places where there are camp, moustachioed men dressed up as cops. Honest.

As I slowly drag my hands through the hot air, I marvel at the way my skin ripples and moves as the thin blast of air shrieks across my hands. Soon they are bone dry despite which I still move them back and forth a few times more just to enjoy the sensation.

With my hands dry I step back, the hand dryer whirls to a stop and I turn back to the sinks to wash my hands. I make sure they are completely wet before returning to the hand dryer once more. I slide my hands into the opening and gently move them up and down.

I should, perhaps, rephrase that last sentence.

Once again my skin is pushed to and fro, and once again I take just a little bit too long to dry them. Then suddenly I remember a past conversation and giggle. I turn and check behind me but there is no-one there, I pause and then decided against it.

I fear I may be addicted to drying my hands. Let me explain.

We’ve just had some shiny new Dyson Airblades installed, you see, and they are bloody awesome. Slowly moving your hands through the gap, watching the thin jets of air ripple your skin and then.. suddenly, you realise they are dry. Properly dry, not the way normal hand dryers leave your hands, when you still feel slightly damp. It’s quite an unusual experience to be honest, definitely something new.

Of course, being in an office full of, mostly, men, the installation of a new gadget (and make no mistake, this is very much an ‘engineering gadget’) starts various conversations. So, for the avoidance of doubt, I can confirm that I have not tried to stick any other part of my body into said machine.

Honest.

So, if you are in Glasgow, near Central Station, and want to experience the hand drying power (HANDS! perverts…) of the Dyson Airblade, then spend 20p and nip into the toilets there.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, a rather camp American cop wants to buy me a coffee…

bookmark_borderThe latest thing

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I’m terribly guilty of starting things but never finishing them, and Tuesday prompted me into action once more.

With all the best will in the world I just know that I’ll use the Goodreads website avidly for a few weeks and then my interest will be grabbed by someth… ohh shiny!!

I am an online, web 2.0, magpie. If it’s new I’ll sign up.

So, whilst I’m slowly filling it with “to-be-reads” feel free to have a gander at my shiny new Goodreads account/list, and if you have an account then, hey, let’s be ‘friends’ too!

bookmark_borderSnip snip

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I need a haircut.

It’s starting to look messy, so on Saturday afternoon my niece is coming over to cut my hair. She’s a proper hairdresser and everything so I might get her to style it, colour it, or just put in some highlights, well, maybe lowlights… hmmmm not sure.

Most likely I’ll just ask for a “number 2” round the back and sides, a trim at the front, and a “tidy up” on top. Thankfully she’s also done a course in barbering for which I modelled a couple of times. It was quite interesting getting your hair cut whilst a tutor advises on how to tell the hairline, and how best to get an even finish, quite educational.

Although I did feel sorry for my niece, it’s not like it takes long to cut my hair.

I’m not at all bothered by my receding hairline, in fact I think it may now just be a receded hairline as it hasn’t really changed much in the past few years.

I have a mix of hairlines. My Dad has a bald patch towards the back, whereas my Grandpa (and also my Uncle, his son) was completely bald bar the sides. So I’ve got hair round the back and sides but it’s much thinner on top than my Dad.

Sometimes I do consider just running a razor over my head and getting rid of the whole lot but I’m not sure I’d suit it.

I’m thankful that, at the moment, I don’t have to sit and wait in a barbershop to get a haircut. Generally I end up waiting 20-odd minutes, and 4 minutes after sitting down I’m done!

One time I was even offered a discount as “It didnae take that long…”.

Bloody cheek.

bookmark_borderBook Lull

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Teetering tall and shamed, the pile remains dust covered and untouched. A reminder of best efforts and failed endeavours, a totem of willing words, waiting to be uncovered.

And my parents added another two books to the top of it last week. Gah!!

I dare not count them for, not only would the number be high, it is likely that the number has almost doubled since the last time I checked (19). Most of the time this doesn’t bother me but every now and then I get a huge pang of guilt and promise that I’ll lock myself away with a good book or two and not come out until I’m done (or until someone else needs the loo).

Last month I slowly managed to plough my way through Live and Let Die, all 190-odd pages of it, a couple of pages a day over almost the entire month, whereas my norm is usually to devour a book in a few hours. This has been going on for a while and it really is getting ridiculous.

So, what to do? Schedule in a ‘book reading’ afternoon perhaps? Actually… that might just work. Get the coffee brewing, chuck the headphones on and lose myself in a good book. I have all the ingredients, so guess I just need to find the time.

Any hints or tips, my little bookworms? How do you get ‘in the mood’ to read a book? Do you have a routine? Or just read on a whim? Or is it so part of you that you can’t imagine NOT having at least three books on the go?

bookmark_borderHealing the Curse of Knowledge

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Last year I read the book Made to Stick, in which the phrase “The Curse of Knowledge” makes an appearance. The authors of the book will be delighted to know that the phrase stuck in my head and I can be heard applying it in all sorts of scenarios.

The principle is quite simple:

Once we know something, we find it hard to imagine what it was like not to know it. Our knowledge has “cursed” us. And it becomes difficult for us to share our knowledge with others, because we can’t readily re-create our listeners’ state of mind.
Made to Stick

For example, during the course of an average week I will have several conversations with people who have a lot more knowledge of a specific thing than I do. Typically these will be software developers who have an in-depth knowledge of computers, how they work and most specifically how they thingmajig they are currently building works. There is a lot of presumed knowledge in these discussions, some rightly (I do know the principles of object-oriented programming) and some wrongly.

And, of course, I do exactly the same when talking to others. Everyone does it, it’s human nature. Where it really starts to hurt is when the Curse descends upon your technical writing.

I’ve fallen into this trap myself, and we do try and peer review our output to make sure a non-expert is looking at the documentation (non-expert in the specific area but still within ‘target audience’ boundaries of knowledge) and, largely, that’s the best you can expect to do with the typical resource and timescale limitations we all worked within.

There is another aspect to technical writing which falls prey to this Curse. There is sometimes a level of disassociation at play as we focus in on word usage and the grammar of what we write, rather than trying to use our information as a user would. It’s a fine distinction but using the software and documenting it is not the same as using the document to use the software.

bookmark_borderNot Watching the Watchmen?

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We didn’t watch the Watchmen at the weekend, we talked about it but couldn’t be arsed. And I think I’m quite glad. I’m not sure though.

The internets are rife with reviews of this movie. Most of the ones that fall into my view are written by fans of the graphical novel and are quite strident in their opinions.

“Fans” is, of course, short for “fanatics” which should give a better idea of where most of these reviews seem aimed. Many point out the omissions, the inconsistencies and generally the fact that the movie misses the nuances the graphical novel handles so well.

To which I say, “Well DUH”.

No offence but it’s a bit like saying that the way I play Purple Haze isn’t anything like the Jimi Hendrix version. No-one seems to have the same issues with song cover versions, but book to move adaptations (book cover versions, if you will) seem to rile so many people in so many ways.

I do want to see the movie but I might wait until I can watch it at home. I’d hate to upset any fans on the way out of the cinema by stating that I thought it was “quite good”.

That and the big blue cock might be a little off-putting on a large cinema screen…