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posted by Jeremy Smyth 11:19  |  

Monday, September 29, 2003

Whine whine, depressing whine, whinge.

OK, it's happened again.

EVERY time I see a house that I like the look of, I call the agency for a viewing, and it's sold or sale agreed. Bah. What is it? What am I doing wrong? Is there some secret society at play here, that allows its members a month's preview of a property? And only when they've all seen it, it goes public? Bah.

When I was over in Cornwall, I heard of a development of apartments that had recently gone up in Penzance. They were nice, and some of the locals (well, one that I'm aware of, but no doubt others) asked the agency for details, only to be told "they haven't gone on the market yet". Well soon after that, they had all been sold. Apparently, the agency had only advertised them "up country", i.e. outside of Cornwall. They had been marketed as quiet seaside apartments in a country town where one could get away from it all. No matter that the locals, the "it all" as it were, hadn't been given the opportunity to bid.

I don't think it's that odd here, but hey, one never knows. In a world full of conspiracy theories, there is usually one that fits. Besides, it's the easy way out. It's not my fault! Nothing to do with me being late to the party! Something sinister and foul is afoot! I know it!

And in other news, one of my friends has refused to see me until I cheer up. Apparently I'm too depressing right now. Whine whine, whinge whinge. Off I go to live in my box. Oh, wait, I don't have a box. They're all sale agreed.

posted by Jeremy Smyth 13:24  |  

Sunday, September 28, 2003

Bizarre Psychology, a slight return

"Anidroccg to crad cniyrrag lcitsiugnis planoissefors at an uemannd, utisreviny in Bsitirh Cibmuloa, and crartnoy to the duoibus cmials of the ueticnd rcraeseh, a slpmie, macinahcel ioisrevnn of ianretnl cretcarahs araepps sneiciffut to csufnoe the eadyrevy oekoolnr."

To read: reverse each word except for the first and last letters - A'nidrocc'g becomes A'ccordin'g. This flies in the face of my earlier post, and comes courtesy of a circular sent around the linguistics department at the University of British Columbia. See here. Ya boo to the amateur psychologists, eh?

posted by Jeremy Smyth 16:46  |  

2001: A Spaced Oddity

I read over the entire contents of my blog again this afternoon, from the beginning of 2001. That's almost 3 years ago now. Wow. That was a whole different world back then.

I realised that I tend to write here as if no-one is going to read it, and anyone who reads it is probably only interested in about 30% of what I write, or maybe only the fact that I write anything at all. I'm sure there are random people who google for bizarre things and end up seeing this, but as I haven't bothered looking at server logs, or even if Tripod has them. Hmm. Just looked now - 10 people looked here yesterday, 343 in the last month. That's the first time I've seen that. It'll cost me $5 per month to know more. Is it worth it? I don't think so. It's always been a place for me and few others.

And that struck me. I've never really blogged anything about work, or my love life. Bits and pieces, but nothing significant. I rarely mention names, don't talk about the personal stuff of other people, and generally just ramble on about my own opinions and circumstances. Yet I have this intense feeling of privacy wrapped around this site. I don't tell people about it, certainly not people I work with, or students, or people in my band, or whatever. I'm sure if they were clever enough they could google for my name and find me, it's not too far down the list. But I don't think anyone has.

This week I showed someone at work the front page, I think it was the jiggled-up-words article. That was the first time I showed anyone at work. I don't think she's the kind of person who would go through all the archives now that she knows the website address, so I didn't feel I was divulging anything of significance, didn't even think of it to be honest.

But this is a diary of sorts. There's nothing too personal in here - at least not from my perspective - but I have to say I laughed several times while reading it, and various other emotions were evoked. It brings me back to another time, another place, another job, another life. We change, we move, and a diary is a letter to a later you. Today I was the recipient of some of those letters. This is such a letter.

With that in mind, how easy is it to give someone access to a diary like this? Giving someone - in one fell swoop - access to private thoughts, an archive of mindless babble (the most honest kind?) going back three years. Giving someone, in the hour it takes them to read through it, access to an entire history that replaces the natural voyage of discovery in knowing someone. If I tell a friend about this blog, and he or she goes through it and reads it, what do they see? Is the normal mystery and opacity of interpersonal communication violated?

When I talk to someone, the conversation follows whatever route it takes, the flow changing moment to moment. That's the natural way of things - if you are enjoying a joke, the joke is shared. A pun in one conversation is not always funny in another. On the other hand, if a friend shows me an email or copy of a conversation they had with someone weeks or months before, the fact that I wasn't in that particular moment means that I can take the email or conversation out of context. It was not mine, so I cannot understand it in the way it was intended to be understood.

I don't know if this diary is such a conversation though. Yes, it is made up of many distinct moments. I was there, I remember them. I understand the context of each of these entries. Each entry is a letter from me. Sometimes, you guys will understand everything in here, but only I can understand it all. There is no "shared moment", as in a normal conversation. In January of 2001, I didn't know many of the people who have read this. If I were to show someone this brief history of mine, will they see me out of context? Will it evoke a negative "Oh, I never knew THAT about you..."? or add a depth of understanding that couldn't have happened otherwise?

My fault for being who I was in 2001 when I started this oddity, and being obsessive and neurotic. Enjoy.

posted by Jeremy Smyth 16:17  |  

Tuesday, September 23, 2003

Ha ha, only serious

A: Because it messes up the order in which people normally read text.

Q: Why is top-posting such a bad thing?

A: Top-posting.

Q: What is the most annoying thing on usenet and in e-mail?

posted by Jeremy Smyth 11:05  |  

Sunday, September 21, 2003

Calling all Homers...

Which one's the 'any' key?

posted by Jeremy Smyth 17:33  |  

Friday, September 19, 2003

Aaargh!

OK, it's getting to be a bit too much. I'm getting to the point where I'm overreacting over stupid things. I had a minor argument with my landlady today, and it blew up beyond all proportion. Stupid. And I got mad about it for about an hour afterwards. My blood pressure's probably getting to be a problem.

It's unbelievable. People have probably thought me highly strung before, and those who don't probably think I'm just too busy, that I'm always on the go. That may be true. But it's gotten to the stage where I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel anymore. There is SOOO much on my plate right now that I really can't see an end. I know what date the end is supposed to be, but I can't see an adequate route to that point. I've been telling myself that it's not the end of the world - nothing that's on my plate right now is going to kill or injure me or anyone else, but it could possibly affect other people to their detriment (so I'm making that stuff priority number one) or my long-term career prospects (same thing, in a very very roundabout and mixed-up way, part of which is about priority 17), and my short- to medium-term comfort. I really really don't like having to sleep on random peoples' couches. Nothing against the people, it's the COUCHES! I'm not a student anymore! but it's getting to the stage where it's looking more and more like me couching it for a couple of months. On top of everything else.

Today was fun - I had to give a custom course covering stuff I've never given before, a lot of which was stuff I didn't even KNOW until yesterday, which I discovered WHILE giving another (totally unbelievably unrelated). I was giving the other course, and at every instant where I wasn't standing there talking - usually while the class involved a lab of some sort - I was researching this other material that I had to give today. We discovered today that the day was too dense anyway; the guys who ordered the custom course wouldn't take my advice that we were trying to fit too much into three days, of which today was the last.

The reason is this: my priority no. 1 is getting assignments back to my students. EVERYTHING seems to get in the way of it - custom courses, travel for work, sickness, family commitments, whatever. So yesterday's fun and shenanigans was an attempt to do two things at once while I was in working-hours, in order to save time so I could do my other (student-focussed) work afterwards. And it's getting more fun - because it's near the end of the year, I'm getting lots of queries regarding revision information, parts of the coursework, and the exam. So answering those (also important) is cutting into my assignment time. Sigh. And I'm very very late with some of them. Merely a little late with most, though.

I called three estate agents today regarding three properties I'm interested in viewing. Two had already been sold. One didn't answer.

It's not like there are millions of properties that suit - I'm being a little fussy, due to the things I need. I work from home, so I need space and quiet for that. I have musical interests and want to set up a mini studio like I had in my last place, so I'll need space and quiet for that. I keep odd hours, so I can't be disturbing neighbours at 4am with loud music or me arriving back to the house with half a tonne of equipment and shifting and grunting and banging and packing. Best solution: make sure the neighbours aren't too near. Yet I'll need to commute to Dublin city centre every day for my day job. So - criteria: detached house outside of a housing estate with room to park comfortably, and hopefully later to expand, and within an hour's drive of Dublin city centre. At last count, I had 5 choices within or near my price range, two of which were unsuitable (on a bad road) or completely run-down.

Bah. Money's starting to be a worry too, for the first time in years. I've managed to spend within my income, which is always a nice thing to do, and now I'm getting to the stage where I can't afford anything suitable, so if I up my price range (and live on lentils for a year or three), then I can get something more suitable. I was talking to my dad about my dilemmas, and he said "it's not a bad complaint to have", which really put it all in perspective. Hmmm.

So that's it. My normally cool calm collected exterior is being eroded. And what am I going to do about it? Knuckle down to work, and try to ignore those deadlines whizzing past my head in small groups.

posted by Jeremy Smyth 17:34  |  

Tuesday, September 16, 2003

Bizarre Psychology

"'Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at an Elingsh uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht frist and lsat ltteer is at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a toatl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae we do not raed ervey lteter by it slef but the wrod as a wlohe."

(from languagehat)

posted by Jeremy Smyth 13:31  |  

Thursday, September 11, 2003

Running to stand still

Granny died.

She was the last grandparent. Now it's only my parents between me and old age. Weird way of looking at it, but it's important to have a familial buffer you can look up to.

Also, my parents made a will. It's been a couple of weeks of mortal thoughts - we had a chat about it only hours before we heard the news from the old folks' home. Hmm.

The removal is today, the funeral tomorrow. There are family issues too; not everyone on that side of the family is on talking terms. I can't understand that sometimes, particularly seeing as in my family, there are no issues bigger than "who's hogging the shower?" or "she owes me a fiver!". Even the details of my parents' will assume there will be no fights or squabbles. With very few exceptions, they're leaving it up to us to decide how the "estate" is divided up, with two of us responsible for executing the wishes of the others. And that's not a problem.

All rather depressing really. This is the first year in a long time, maybe even ever (a period six years ago comes to mind, but I was studying part time that year, and was promoted once or twice, hmmm), that I've felt I've stood still and not achieved anything really worthwhile. Stepped backwards even. I can't call it an "annus horribilis", because I'm sure there are worse (or more shocking) things that could have happened, but it's definitely the year of least progress for me. I've had some good experiences, but all rather small in comparison to the leaps and bounds I've made, or goals reached, or decisions made. This year has seen me make few good decisions, has seen few leaps of progress. Having said that, I have two or three things coming up in the next few months that may change that, not least of which is the possible, even eventual, reaching of a goal I had hope to acheive some years ago, that of owning my own home.

Other than that, it's off to play catch up, and think happy thoughts while watching the casket as it goes on its journey, running to stand still.

posted by Jeremy Smyth 14:03  |  

Tuesday, September 09, 2003

Deja vu?

No, I'm not talking about drug-induced hallucinations or spooky feelings of things-about-to-happen (had one of those yesterday, thank you very much), but no, a recurrence of something mildly unpleasant that happened at the beginning of the year.

I'm being evicted. Again.

Hrmph. That's the last four places I've been living in, rented accomodation each one. Let me summarise:

• When I first left home, I lived with some friends in a nice bungalow outside the city. After a little over two years, the landlady sold the house. I was evicted.


• I moved briefly in with a friend, then moved back home for a few months, before settling in with some people I worked with. After 4 years or so, the landlord sold the house. I was evicted.


• A friend of a friend was renting an attic room in a newly built house, I moved in. 11 months later he sold the house. I was getting a nasty feeling of deja vu at this stage, but no, the owner said the new owner would take it as a going concern. Two months later, I was evicted.


• That brings me to my current abode. I moved in roughly 6 months ago, a rather arduous process. And last night, the landlady told me she is tired of being a landlady. I was evicted.

Eh? Should I take a hint or something?

With all this in mind, and the complete disaster that was this year's workload, I'm thinking of dropping the university work. I've successfully managed to miss every student-focussed deadline due to a combination of badly starting the year, and letting day-job etc. get out of hand. Bloody seniority. Hrmph. So I think a call to Da Boss is in order. It all happens at once, doesn't it?

posted by Jeremy Smyth 11:01  |