Fulfilling student stereotypes – Part 2

I've been planning to get more photos printed, but haven't found time to get around to it. I have found more voucher codes for free prints but I fancied bigger ones than 4x6 or 6x8s. The existing A4 prints were made by myself, but they gobbled up the ink cartridges in my home printer. The compromise? The students union print shop. For 23p a page, 5p glossy print surcharge, and a £1.50 "under £5 from USB" surcharge it wasn't too costly to get 8 prints made. Not as high quality as the home prints because they're not on genuine photo card/paper, and they're not printed to the edge, but I'm happy enough.

So, what pictures have I had produced for me? The now iconic Obama "Hope" poster, and two satirical pastiches thereof based on Darwin and Griffin (all on right). There's images of Valentino Rossi and Bettie Page (both left) to reflect the main pin-board photo array (see October blog 'part 1'). Another Bouguereau offering entitled "The Nymphaeum", and a performance shot of Jacques Brel (top left and right, respectively). Finally an image that captured my imagination when I first saw it. It's a shot of Gaza-based American freelance journalist Erin Cunningham speaking with a group of Hamas militia in the spring of 2009 (top centre - original).

As with my previous entry on this theme, here is a view of the end product:



Oh, and that in the middle? Just my write-on/wipe-off scheduler so I don't forget when I need to get on campus.

NB - It's my photography that's wonky, not the pictures.

Intelligence Squared

A debate was recently held by "Intelligence Squared", with the topic being "The Catholic church is/isn't a force for good".

Arguing for the church was Archbishop John Onaiyekan, and Conservative MP Anne Widdecombe. Against were Christopher Hitchens and Stephen Fry.

It was a quite marvellous thing to watch. I shall not spoil things for you, as I've included a link to a YouTube play-list for you to see for yourself. What I will say though is my own piece. I think that church organisations on the whole can do some wonderful things and provide funding for some quite incredible works of social good. However, the only advantages they have over secular organisations are their long established nature and resulting depth of financial resources and devoted following. There is nothing of 'goodness' whatsoever in any believer of any faith that can not be found in any secular person. The works that can be done by any man or woman given the resources to do so are equally wonderful and incredible. On the other hand I think the pernicious influence of organised religion with established hierarchies is far reaching and for want of a better word, quite 'evil'. The ready condemnation of individuals and groups based on how they were born, and the 'choice' they make (if one can ever be said to be there) to live freely and honestly as nature made them, is unforgivable.
Furthermore, and in particular reference to the Catholic Church, the damage done by policies surrounding birth control (particularly condoms) is nothing short of dogmatic murder. This "loving genocide" could be reversed with a diktat from one man and his role. On and on the men in that position of power have refused to save the lives of millions. How can any person whose faith imposes such an atrocity claim it is a force for good?

This was my opinion before watching, and remains as such.

Watch and make your own mind up, or have it reaffirmed. Have a particularly close look at the results of an audience poll taken before the debate began, and re-taken after. The link is below.

Intelligence Squared



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Musings on the media.

With regard to when a child is lost, missing, abused, killed, injured, harmed etc, is it my imagination or is it a recent phenomena (last 3yrs or so) that the press always prefix their name with "little"?

It's annoying the hell out of me (not whether or not it's recent, but that they do it at all). In my oh-so humble opinion, when they do this it ceases to be journalism or reporting of the news, but instead becomes a maudlin trick in peddling a story.

Answers on a postage stamp, addressed to "Mr Out-Of-Touch, Possibly Offensive Avenue, Grumpyland"...

Grades

Despite being a man who lives quite untidily, doesn't mind tasks being left unfinished (if it won't inconvenience anybody and the world won't come to a premature end as a result), and tends to put things off repeatedly until the last minute, I'm beginning to realise there's a streak of perfectionism within me.

I'm frustrated when I'm awarded decent grades that are above average. This is because there's higher available and I didn't achieve them.
I'm frustrated that I don't always find ways to word things economically and accurately even though the idea might be sat in my head.
Equally I can often have a great idea within my head but relaying it verbally eludes me. Double whammy.

The only ways to get my point across in class or in essays are handicapped by the tangled spaghetti of thoughts and my inability to untangle them effectively. This again means lower grades.

But if I'm getting decent grades then why am I worried? Because I'm reasonably sure if I knew how to say what I want to say then I could achieve more. I am my own limitation, and I've no idea how to fix it. For sure not putting things off would help in a major way - but that extra half hour on a little more comedy, that extra glass of wine, it can't hurt... Oops!

I'm my own worst enemy.

Time to grow up, perhaps? Less play, more work? Accept my limitations? I hope the answer to all these is a resounding "No!". I wonder if it would be any easier if I had any clue at all what the hell I want to do when the next four years are over? How can I be focused and driven, like some of the kids on this course that I'm beginning to admire, when I don't know what I'm focusing on and driving towards?

So easy to say "sod it!" and open another bottle of wine, and let Mr Château Musar take care of the dark ideas for a while longer. Maybe not at £25 a bottle. Might be a while before I can replenish stocks!

Just like my essays - I've rather wandered off point. Gone from self-critique and introspection to (mental) self-flagellation and morbidity in under 300 words. Oops x2! :)

Listening skills, and getting away with embarrassing mistakes.

I learned today that perhaps I need to listen more carefully in future...

As I sat outdoors by the smoking bins, waiting for a lift from the university library to a building way across campus, there were two female students nearby who were deep in conversation. It seemed largely vacuous and none of my business, so I filtered it out to the best of my ability.

Minutes later Student No.1 suddenly turned to face me, addressing me with the following question: "Do YOU think I should I get new boobs?".

Slightly taken aback by my sudden involvement as a third party in a private conversation, and surprised that a quite attractive young lady should boldly offer what is quite an intimate question to a complete stranger who is simply there by coincidence, I unthinkingly but unselfishly made a split second not to feign deafness. Indeed I would answer her question.

I took a brief look at her chest area which was clothed in the modern style, i.e. mostly covered though with close fitting clothes that are moderately revealing without being tarty. Care was taken not to look too long or intently that I might appear pervy, but long enough to formulate a genuine answer with quick but careful consideration. After all, passing poorly considered comment on such an intimate area of a woman's body linked so closely to self image would be a crass and boorish thing to do (Aren't I lovely! Aherm).

With one of my operating brain cells fixed on polite gentlemanly conduct, another on appropriate terms of flattery for a stranger, a third on the surprising nature of her enquiry, and the remaining half dozen on her perfectly attractive breasts, I had made up my mind. I boldly asserted "They seem fine to me. Not too big, not too small. Quite nice really". That would be the end of that! Phew, bacon duly saved.

Except... My questioner looked at me quizzically, while her friend just looked confused (whether or not this was her natural state, I had not taken enough notice beforehand to establish). Eventually she replied by saying "Well obviously they're the right size for my feet already! I'm not gonna wear the wrong size am I? These look so last year though. But thanks though, they are quite nice aren't they."

I fought to prevent my eyes bulging with embarrassment as I realised my mistake, managing a small smile, and a quiet "Yes" to spare my blushes as my internal voice bellowed "Ground, please open up, swallow me, and close up again as fast as you can! She said boots, not boobs!"

I can only assume she thought I was REALLY boz-eyed or something, by virtue of being able to judge the nature of her footwear by staring at her breasts for ten seconds!

As Izzard would say: "True story..."

Fulfilling student stereotypes – Part 1

 

After wandering around the Freshers Fair I figured from the stuff on sale, and the comments I overheard along the lines of “That SO has to go on my wall!” that most students seem to have walls covered in posters, takeaway menus, newspaper cuttings, and Sharpie-graffiti. And so my own little project was born. I don’t want to throw away my damage deposit on blu-tack stains or pin-holes, so I’m limited to the area provided by a notice board already affixed to the wall. That said, it’s a decent sized space, and I’m happy that I can use it well.

The plan is simply to put up photos I like, minimise blank space, and provide a unique frame to the academic year’s planner. I’ve gathered a few photos from on-line sources, as well as scans of old family photos, and either printed them myself on A4 paper, or taken advantage of a free offer on professional prints from a company called Jessops. Okay it’s not quite fulfilling a student stereotype, it’s never going to reach a critical mass of paper and gum, but it’s my nod to the cliché.

The photos include some of my idols from film and sport, immediate relatives, friends, scenes from movies - and from a few people I’ve met online, there are photographs both of their own taking, or those that they have recommended that I find particularly aesthetically attractive.

My personal favourites are Valentino Rossi, Audrey Hepburn, photos of me with family as a child, Ayrton Senna, and the female nudes/sexy-shots.

The first photo below is a little hazy but it depicts the work so far. The other stuff on display are a year-planner, a campus map, and a short series of paddock passes from the days I worked in MotoGP as a driver.
The second image is a little closer to see a sample of the prints more clearly. They include particular favourites of mine that depict the Dalai Lama with Archbishop Desmond Tutu laughing, a bubble at the moment it is burst, a rather sexy woman in a maid’s outfit, and me as a particularly handsome young boy. Both photos expand if you click on them.

 

(Oh, and my crutchesmake a cameo in pic 1 too – forgot to move them out of shot… Oops!).

Beginning of the four year adventure.

Today, well to be pedantic it was yesterday, my student adventure in the realms of higher education began in earnest. Having gone through the trials and tribulations of applying for a place on five courses at four universities, attempting to arrange student finance, and enduring the as yet unrewarding task of getting the physical help I need to study with a disability, I finally moved into my new accommodation over the weekend.

The place is pretty spacious, all things considered. A half dozen crates of paperwork, books, DVDs, along with the electrical stuff, cooking equipment, and clothes, all combine to mean every bit of shelf space is already occupied. I dread to think where I'll shove books I gather along the way!

The university I am attending has a pretty awesome array of events designed to keep the new students entertained and socialising for the whole of Freshers Week, but I'm only planning to take part in the few that genuinely interest me. Not for me a trip to a chocolate factory, or going to a nightclub dressed in army fatigues. A spot of comedy and a quiz or two and I will be happy.

The week ahead also has some educational content, which pleases me greatly. I'm looking forward to getting my teeth stuck in to some academic work.

The only problem I have to contend with is the somewhat shaky internet access. It's already in place and that is better than I had been led to believe would be the case, but it appears that the provision in place is pretty restrictive and even slow at times. The ability to use relatively low bandwidth programs such as Football Manager online should be easily handled but it seems impossible to maintain a connection. There are also possible issues with other online based games which seem to be reluctant to allow me to either log in, or remain logged in. I can only assume this is an issue with the provider or infrastructure. Hopefully things won't move on too much while that gets sorted, leaving paid up commitments losing out.

Other than that little whinge - uni life is excellent! I thoroughly recommend it to anyone who has the flexibility or necessity in their life to facilitate this change in their life.

MotoGP Calendar Madness

This will bore a lot of people but I need to have a bit of a rant about this. I mean it. Tediously dull for people who have no connection with truck driving, or motor sport. The bee is in my bonnet though, so I'm going to shout at cyberspace, where nobody can hear me whine.

In 2006 I had the huge privilege of driving a motor-home for a couple of MotoGP racers. I was employed by an English family who ran four rigs at the time, and probably even more now. I've loved no job more than that, and only the difficult working relationship with the family brought things to an end as the situation became untenable (patronising and bullying on the Hyde side, but wonderful and loving on the Jekyll side - but you never knew where you stood. The driver turnover rate for that concern was and is stupendous). But despite the bad times, even now I look upon those half dozen races with a longing warmth for the lifestyle of working on the continent, and being at the heart of what I believe is the most spectacular sport in the world. An all-too-brief taste of something I wanted a three course meal of - and still do.

The experience gave me an incredible insight into the world of international top class motor sport, even if the job I was doing was relatively easy when compared to the men and women who work for the teams themselves. The drivers who work for the racing outfits not only pilot millions of dollars worth of unique equipment around the world's roads, but are involved in constructing the spectacular hospitality units, working in the garage and pit crews, handle security, and some are even chefs. They work incredibly long hours over a race weekend that take a toll physically and mentally, and are away from home quite often for half the year. Despite these pressures, the competition for these jobs is fierce. People gladly put themselves through the stresses and strains, the highs and the lows. The rewards of being amongst the elite, and of competition, are worth it.

They are however often taken for granted by the people involved in the business and management of motor sport.

The prime example comes in the planning of the race schedule, or calendar. I was told several times by team "truckies", and by the family I worked for, that the people involved with planning the calendar rarely visited races at all, and had little understanding of the whole process of setting up for a grand prix. And so it is that these people who scribble down places and dates determine the year ahead. They have a tough task, I'll admit that. They need to allow in part for other events that might make a circuit unavailable, such as rock concerts and Formula One racing. They must also consider major international sporting events in other disciplines that might mean television scheduling clashes, such as the tennis finals at Wimbledon, golf majors, and so on. Occasionally the schedule calls for "back to back" race weekends. These are a necessary feature of the calendar which can also give the season a momentum that adds to the excitement of the sport as a whole. And so the year is set out for three world championship series, the 40 teams who make them happen, and the hundreds of people who work within them. Sometimes the task laid out before them is not just arduous, but verging on the epic.

Imagine if you will that the weekend's racing has come to an end on a Sunday. Entire hospitality units must be taken apart and packed into their respective trailers. Pit garages must be de-constructed and stowed. Exotic racing machines need to be made ready for travel. Motor-homes and their contents must be prepared for being driven, from the simple tasks of cleaning and stowing deck chairs down to the less pleasant job of emptying a weekend's worth of dirty water and effluent into public drains. Everything is cleaned meticulously before being packed away (and again when it's unpacked).
That equipment is then transported to the next circuit by the Thursday morning of a race weekend, at the latest, ready to be set up in its entirety for the business of racing which begins on a Friday. Quite often there's PR to be done so the outfits arrive by the Wednesday to make sure everything is present and correct. Motor-homes are typically there before the teams in order to make sure riders are accommodated from the moment they arrive at the circuit which can be any time from Wednesday night onward.

It's worth pointing out at this stage that large goods vehicles are fitted with tachographs, and their drivers must adhere to strict driver hours regulations that govern the time a driver can work in a day, how much of this can be spent driving, the length and regularity of breaks, with allowances for "double-manning", where two drivers share the duties. With speed regulators restricting a truck to 56mph (90km/h), a truck can potentially cover 500 miles in a day if the driver is incredibly lucky, 650 if it's double-manned.

Imagine then, with all this in mind, the sheer incredulity with which a motor racing "truckie" must view a race calendar for the coming season when it features such back-to-back scheduling as these:

1) Motegi (Japan) and Jerez (Spain) - few road miles but a long air freight flight.
2) Mugello (Tuscany, Italy) and Silverstone (Northamptonshire, England) - 1200 miles.
3) Assen (Northern Netherlands) and Barcelona (Northern Mediterranean Spain) - 1100 miles.
4) Sachsenring (Saxony, Eastern Germany) and Laguna Seca (California, USA) - again few road miles but enormous air freight distance.

The sport is also going through a period of financial constraint. Cost-cutting measures are being put in place, and still teams are finding they can't continue to be competitive on the money they can raise to compete. Despite this, the provisional calendar for 2010 takes the whole circus to Laguna Seca in California, back to Brno in the Czech Republic, back out again to the USA to visit Indianapolis, before heading to Rimini, in Italy. Utterly nonsensical to split the German and Czech grands prix with a fly-away to west coast America, particularly when the two European circuits are a mere 280 miles apart, even with a circuitous route to avoid mountain roads.

Typically a two or three week gap means teams return to their bases, which are mostly in Italy, Spain, and Germany. The mileage covered by drivers are still quite large as a result, but the pressure of time is not in force. There have been worse calendars too in recent years. 2006 in particular, the year I was driving, saw Assen following Barcelona. Assen is always a Saturday race so we lost a day from the schedule, meaning the whole pack-down, drive, and set-up had to be done in two days. I suspect few outfits did the run legally.

And so this rambling rant comes toward a close. When you watch the spectacle of motor sport, just think for a few seconds about the little people who make it happen. The boys and girls who build the paddock, physically run the spectacle, and move the whole show around the world. The legends might be on the circuit, duelling at 180mph, but the heroes are behind the scenes at a far slower speed but more hectic pace. It would be nice if you would, because the people who determine where they go sure as hell don't.


The provisional calendar is as follows:

April 11th - Qatar - Circuit Losail
April 25th - Japan - Motegi Twin Ring
May 2nd - Spain - Circuito Jerez
May 16th - France - Le Mans, Circuit Bugatti
May 30th - Italy - Mugello
June 6th - Great Britain - Silverstone
June 26th - Netherlands - TT Assen
July 4th - Catalunya - Catalunya
July 18th - Germany - Sachsenring
July 25th - United States - Laguna Seca
August 15th - Czech Republic - Brno
August 29th - Indianapolis - Indianapolis Motor Speedway
September 12th San Marino & Riviera di Rimini - Misano
September 19th - Hungary - Balatonring
October 10th - Malaysia - Sepang
October 17th - Australia - Phillip Island
October 31st - Portugal - Estoril
November 7th - Valencia Ricardo Tormo - Valencia

Paint-By-Numbers - Politics and Religion

Just a bit of a rambling trail of thoughts today. It was intended to be brief rather than any in-depth philosophical analysis, but it seems (having penned this introduction after the rest was written) the flood gates were opened. No doubt some will agree, while others will froth at the mouth. Others will shrug and not give a monkey's. Further to this, it's based on my own understanding of matters that include US law. Given that I'm not yet educated in such matters it may be easy for those who are to pick large holes in certain particulars of legislation. Feel free to illuminate me further in the comments section. And so to the ramble:

The United States of America was, in essence, founded on the principles that allow freedom of religion and indeed to be free from religion. The state should not adopt or show preference toward any religious slant. Jefferson clarified his thoughts further in letters to a church, outlining the meaning of the 1st amendment of the constitution, in effect stating that it builds a wall of separation between the state and the church.

With this in mind we can therefore see that laws, rights, freedoms and the people they protect should be free of biblical rhetoric, and the impositions made by any given faith upon its believers. Some laws will naturally reflect biblical teachings simply because they have become common values of many over centuries or millennia, or indeed because the teachings are reflected in pretty much every society of every faith, and indeed secular societies. In general, Mankind abhors the taking of life, forcing sex upon another, taking possessions without permission, and so on - albeit to varying degrees of course. However it is clear that rules by which a people who have faith in a god and scripture of their choosing are free to practice, and that their faith can not be imposed upon others by way of the state.

Further to this particular area, I do wonder how those who use religious grounds to argue against certain legal equalities and protections reconcile themselves with various other allowances or restrictions of civil and constitutional law that contradict biblical law. For example, divorce, slavery, polygamy, and so on. Why the particular focus on homosexuality when other things considered abhorent are tolerated or even enjoyed, and other allowances are now taboo?

The reasons used to argue against the rights of homosexuals to be equal in all parts of law to heterosexuals are, at least as I understand them, either biblical or claims that homosexuality is not natural. With the previous two paragraphs in mind we should at this point set aside the arguments of those who use religious dogma as the underpinning of their argument, as the state should not favour or adopt any religion. And so if we consider only the claim that it is not a natural occurrence as reason for discriminating in law against those who live their lives attracted to, loving, and living with others of the same gender, we must consider nature. There are over 1500 species in which same-sex courtship behaviour, and mating, have been observed. Fewer have been studied in detail as much of the research is relatively recent, but all the same these relationships occur in nature. Not only that, it has to be considered that we as a species are a part of nature, and therefore if a behaviour occurs among humankind then it is by default 'natural'.

So, therefore, the discrimination in law that prevents same-sex couples from being unified in a legal sense in a permanent legal relationship, recognised as equal to those enjoyed by their heterosexual counterparts, is unconstitutional. The relationship can not be discriminated against on religious grounds. The relationship can not be discriminated against on scientific grounds.

I appreciate that a religious organisation such as a church can not be made to recognise a relationship their own codes and laws declare to be forbidden, so I'm not suggesting that they should be forced to allow same-sex couples to have a wedding ceremony using their buildings or ceremonial traditions - that is an internal debate for those organisations to have for themselves.

However, it must surely be recognised that the right to civil union of a homosexual couple can not be denied, and that all the legal benefits (tax, insurance, recognition in wills and probate, and so on) afforded to opposite-sex couples should be afforded to their same-sex counterparts. To do otherwise is unconstitutional.

As for the argument over what such unions should be called, this is surely just semantics. Language changes and adapts to purpose. Words in common use can not be given some sort of protection, or rights of use, or any other treatment that benefits some sort of dogmatic claim of sovereignty over them.

The definition "marriage" might be set out by the "Defense of Marriage Act" of 1996 (which in itself must surely by the above arguments be considered unconstitutional), but it does not specify that couples of the same sex can not be unified in a civil partnership which affords equal status to marriage.

So painting by numbers, and following some sort of mental flow-chart, there can surely be no other argument than that which tears down the discrimination against homosexuals that is set in US law.

Of course it's not that simple. At least not while faith-based lobby groups are permitted to operate in Washington, and while people choose to mark their ballot papers in accordance to which church a candidate professes to attend, and those candidates compete to prove they are more religiously devout than their opponent. Tub-thumping partisan television and radio media corporations in the US don't particularly help matters.

So, what can possibly be the answer? A root and branch return to the principles of politics according to the founding concepts of the newly independent nation and those great thinkers and the men who inspired them. Jefferson and Locke. Flawed men no doubt and of course they were men of their time, but many of their ideas were and are timeless. A nation should be governed, with the consent of the people, by people who operate with a free mind, and are not inhibited by the pulpit.

The Essentials

Under two months to go until the move into student accommodation, and the planning of what to take and what not to take is under way. Having secured a 'large' studio apartment (in relative terms as far as student halls go!) I've got an unfair advantage over many, insofar as I have more space to put stuff. That said, it's still going to be a squeeze.

There's the basics for a modern student, i.e. a desktop computer and printer, TV and Freeview box, a stereo with speakers, and about 400 power cables for charging all the gadgetry that one accrues. Simple kitchen equipment, i.e. wok, steamer, small frying pan, a couple of saucepans, and an electric frying pan (for awesome paella-making). A couple of suit-cases full of clothing, along with the stupid stuff I own that I'll not wear once in the four years I'm studying but I refuse to part with. For example, a German leather Swagman hat. Bloody pointless and I look stupid it it, but I paid £20 for it and I'm a Yorkshireman at heart!

This is the point, I'm sure, where I depart from the average student's list of possessions and things-to-bring. Not for me a wall covered in posters of the Backstreet Chemical Detectives or the Spice Dolls, or whoever is flavour of the moment. Instead I'll just take my nice (but quite common) 3-foot square print of Audrey Hepburn, and hopefully another of Bouguereau's "The Wave" - if I can get hold of an affordable one in decent dimensions (A0 or bigger). I'd probably do a sex-wee if I could get hold of a high quality large print of Bettie Page's incredible sexy back/arse pose too. Classic beauties, all.

In addition to the prints I'm hoping that I can find an old drinks globe that won't break the bank. They tend to go for around £150 though so maybe I'll have to make do with lining up the whisky, brandy, vodka etc on my desk instead. If anyone knows where I can get a nice vintage number for under £50 I'd be quite grateful!

At this rate of turning retro-chic I might have to grow a handlebar moustache, and buy a smoking jacket.

If there's anything you think is essential for a man of thirty to take with him in order to survive life at university, and I haven't listed it here, please let me know in comments!
(N.B. Tasers are illegal for civilians.)

Before September Ends

It's July 22nd. It's sixty-one days until I enter the next phase of my life, surrounded by dozens of 18-year-olds. Thousands of 18-21s in fact. How so? I'm a mature student.

After the twists and turns of life in general over the years, the last academic year was spent proving myself to various universities (and, well, myself) by completing an Access to Higher Education diploma. Generally it was not at all difficult, other than stepping up the effort when the slow trickle of work in the first term become an almost overwhelming torrent in the second.

The course is complete, my academic aptitude proven, and in due course I will be confirmed to study at degree level. This is in equal measures both exciting and terrifying. Exciting because it's a new challenge, and at last I will be able to begin the real work toward my degree. Terrifying because of the entirely alien environment I will find myself in.

I hated most teenagers when I was one, in the main because I was rubbish at being one. It is this thought that provides me with the majority of my concerns. I now know most teenagers are great (in their own hormonal, smelly, noisy, outspoken, excitable kind of way) but how on earth do I keep up without making a prize tit of myself? No doubt there will be many occasions upon which I will be the most shining prize tit there ever was, and I may even enjoy the moment, and I don't mind that concept too much. But the question is of course, how do I ensure I will not become the 30yr-old equivalent of The Inbetweeners, turned away at parties, talked about behind hands in the canteen, and pitied by the cool kids... well... ALL the kids?

And the answer? Stop giving a shit. That's it, in a nutshell. It took a while of internalised panic over many weeks to reach that conclusion, but once I'd told myself to grow up, get a grip, and remember that most of the people of 'regular age' on campus are going through their own similar panic (with the added burden of being hormonal, smelly, and excitable) I was fine. Sure I'll still make a tit of myself, but there will also be many moments of personal triumph, new friends to be made, and fantastic new experiences.

Oh, wasn't that nice? Man panics but it all turns out swell in the end. Still as nervous as a bubble at a hedgehog farm though!

Finally - Just to reassure you that this isn't necessarily going to be a blogologue, spilling voluminous essays of tedious nonsense of some bloke's daily life. Sometimes there will be stories to tell, and sometimes I will just be passing observations on current events. If something catches my eye and I have something to say on it, I'll say it. So please consider adding this blog to those you watch, and I'll try to keep it entertaining.