Says it all, my fellow diving divas..why we don't swallow seawater ;)

Jetlagged ramblings n stuff

Hey,hey...hejsan,swejsan...I'm back!! Always kinda surprises me, making that comment ;)

The imporatant news is that I suffered no broken bones, there were no tsunami warnings, I didn't see kukskalle nej tumme, and I had a superalright, yet mildly-inebriated time...more will follow when I'm less jetlag-zombie chick.

In the meantime, I have some time to fill so felt it to be an appropriate time (as frankly, any time is) to share some thoughts and emails I recently received regarding my good friend alcohol :)

Well you see, Norm, it's like this... A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the lowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members. In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Now, as we know, excessive intake of alcohol kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine And that, Norm, is why you always feel smarter after a few beers.

And another my pretties:

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.


So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

"I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things--your family, your children, your health, your friends, your favorite passions--things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. "The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else--the small stuff.

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal.

"Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers."

Dream Teams

Thanks to a nugget of inspiration from the current bun (The Sun- for which I make no apologies...if all media is propoganda, I'm going for one that is sensational and amuses me), I have had the subject of dream teams on my tiny,jetlagged mind today.

The afore-mentioned denizen of printed media featured an article about who Charlotte Church would choose to be in her drinking dream team. Now not a fan of hers, but got me to wondering about the various different dream teams you could devise(Obviously I mean of famous personages, be a bit dull if I just listed friends names)...I feel this may be an ongoing project with substitutions and transfer windows being open for a set period of time.

Your input or your choices would be appreciated (it's good to share after all) ...the dream teams I'm compiling include:

• Drinking Dream Team
• Dinner Dream Team
• Weed Dream Team

It's more difficult than one would initially imagine, especially since I am allowing deceased people for this fantasy following, and haven't yet decided on the number limits for each team (since this is merely the start of an idea).

So far I've noticed that some of the players could be members of more than one dream team...oh and upon discussion with my superfabulous gay, ex-monk friend also discovered that for the drinking dream team it may be difficult to differentiate between who you would like to drink with, and who you'd like to drink with as foreplay to an act of depravity.

Anyhow, initially I'm finding the dinner dream team the easiest with the following springing to mind:

• Micheal Palin - he seems v. charming, has visited some wicked places and has a sense of humour
• Jose Mourinho - good-looking older man, and it would be wrong for a chelsea fan not to invite him round (never let the chelsea thing be known before did I? It's not a recent thing in case random peeps suddenly accuse me of jumping on the bandwagon, it started back in the days of Wisey and Jullit...and yes I am a girl, and yes I know and attend football)
• Baz Luhrman - like his style and films
• Tom Robbins - wicked author (maybe will be in more than one dream team, could be more fun in the weed team)
• Adam Sandler/Ben Stiller - just for a laugh

As said before, this is work in progress, and I just noticed I've not thought of a single woman... hmmm...Gwen Stefani rocks and is hot so I'll find a team for her at some point.

Like I said random today...

Two too cool websites...ribbed for your pleasure

Like I said it'll all be a bitty random tonight, but I thought you might enjoy these websites:

www.stuffonmycat.com - does what it says, photos of stuff people have put on their cats..makes me giggle.

www.urbandictionary.com - to improve, amaze and expand your vocabulary, contains such joys as this:



Urban Word of the Day for June 10, 2005
infinity plus shipping and handling
Infinity plus shipping and handling is similar to infinity plus one. It stems from the idea that everything has shipping and handling tacked on when ordered.

"Does anybody know what's larger than infinity?"
"Nothing"
"No, infinity plus shipping and handling"
"WTF?"

Happy Birthday to Svenska for the 10th
Grattis pa fordelsedagen min stjarna!!!
This is what a birthday breakfast should be - champagne and strawberries, with a good choclate cake...here's one I made earlier (for my sister's bday)

And Happy Birthday to me too!

Lay some demons to rest.

Well this will be it for a wee while my pretties...it's time to lay some demons to rest and head back to phi phi for a few weeks.

Strange how this came about...had been IMing Svenska saying that I wish I could be with her for her birthday on 10th, when out of nowhere she offered to lend me the money. I declined her offer. Then on returning home after my nightshift I called the Turtle to see how things were going and he offered to buy me a return ticket as a birthday present!!Uber-generous gift/prize!! The sale of his house has just completed, and he would be heading out that way, and basically invited me along. I spent 3 days changing my mind about once an hour over whether to accept, as to whether I should leave pp as is, or try again.

Obviously from this post I am going. I am really superexcited about it too...in parellel to being kinda nervous. It certainly cannot go as badly as the last trip, can it? Almost 6 months on, the island will look different again, and I am going knowing what to expect on that front this time. The shock and devastation factor I experienced isn't there.

The plan is to be with lovely Svenska on her birthday, and remain there for my birthday on 22nd, then head back a few days later. Spending my birthday in the company of good friends. I will get to dive again - WO-HOO!!! I may rock-climb again too, give Svenska a hand at the dive shop she manages, help West decorate her new shop, do a few days volunteering. I want to reclaim pp in my head...I want to be able to think of it fondly again, for it to come to mind without being associated with M. Boucher (or kuksalle nej tumme as he is now known), heartache, dishonesty, the tsunami, the deaths. Maybe my nightsweats and nightmares will stop!! Lay those demons to rest. Yup, so intend to go on a bit of a good time bender, maybe seduce some unsuspecting diver or tourist, just for a 1 or 2 night sesh, as a bday prize to myself. Break the drought, someone new, on pp. I think it will be my cure...to kuksalle nej tumme and the hurt over pp.


(On that front- quick update - he no longer lives on pp, he moved in with his ugly Micheal Jackson lookalike thai girlfriend (who is by trade, u guessed it guys, a whore) to Patong. No to be more specific he moved with her into her mothers house...imagine telling that to the folks back home eh? something to aspire to I'm sure. Oh, and he also got her preggers, she has since miscarried and continues to work, whilst Kuksalle financially supports the family. So as you can see, the Kuksalle part of the difficulties I have with pp are not an issue, I won't have to see him! He has also just come out of hospital having had a toe attached to his no-thumb area...frankenhand!!! Toe-thumb!!! I remember a friend of mine, a teacher at a primary school telling one of her classes about this, not long after it happened and got them to draw pictures of what it may look like..how funny! You can imagine the sight of schoolkids all tracing around their left hands, apart from the thumb, and then tracing around a toe...20 odd pictures of it!! I realise I shouldn't take enjoyment in this, but I really, really do!! Oops went off on one eh? Actually its been a while now...we haven't had any contact since May)

Okay, so back to the trip...am very positive about it and to reassure one and all, I have this time invested heavily in some rather comprehensive travel insurance..hehehe!!! I mean, it would be bloody unlucky to break my jaw or another limb again on the same island, twice within 6 months, but you guys know my luck!! ;)

Fishy

Upon returning from my nightshift this morning I was greeted by the sight of one of my fish floating belly up, mouth gaped open and quite obviously dead. It was a very old fish, and I believe it died of natural causes being practically geriatric at over 8 years old.

I inherited these fish from whelk, these (plural) because it had a companion, who was swimming around the deceased as I walked in. What is bemusing is that I surprised myself in becoming a lil emotional about this..and somewhat girly. I felt it wasn't nice for the remaining fish to be bumping into the deceased as it swam round, so would have to remove the corpse from the bowl. I did consider leaving this to my housemate but after some time pulled myself together. It was a peculiar sensation using the net and not having to chase it around the bowl, or feel it flapping around.I don't know what to do with it now though, couldn't face flushing it down the toilet, didn't want to bury it as the cats would smell it and eat it...so ended up placing it in a take-away container for afore-mentioned housemate to deal with.

Where I inherited them from whelk they didn't have names...yet still I was shocked to find myself a lil attached. Fish don't do much in a bowl, they aren't particularly affectionate, nor cuddly, and although I don't indulge in anthropomorphism often I thought the remaining fish looked a ll lost and lonely. Ok, I'm a sap I know...and as housemate pointed out goldfish have ridiculously short memory spans, so it probably wouldn't even remember the other fish.

Drought - metaphorically speaking

I have been experiencing a 14 month drought (through choice I hasten to add,self-imposed due to the ex kuksalle nej tumme). I am however starting to get concerned about this situation, and it occurred to me that I am becoming a vacuum or blackhole. Isn't it blackholes that can implode and vanish? Or is that a wormhole? Actually I think wormhole may be something fictional to do with sci-fi (?)

Anyhoo, what if I continue as is, and end up vanishing off the face of the earth? Like spontaneous combustion but in reverse...so underused that I end up consuming myself from the outside in/inside out? I would become a person of significant scientific interest...and it would be pretty amazing, and an amusing tale to share with your friends.

I did share this fear with a gal pal from tokyo the other day...she believes that the opposite may eventually happen, that this vacuum/blackhole could start attracting objects to it, almost magnetically pulling them to its core. She further suggested that perhaps this is the real origin of the expression 'pulling', as in going on the...

:)

Language

I like languages generally...I speak swedish, french and some thai...the mechanisms of communication eh? I read some interesting books on language recently, Eats Shoots and Leaves by Lynn Truss and Mother Tongue by Bill Bryson. Anyhoo, I've also been reading some books by scottish authors of late and have discovered the beauty of the scottish language.

Slainte - although I think this may be pronounced slange (?)

Mortal - I have adopted this, although I doubt it sounds as good in a brightonian accent. I can't believe I've lived almost 29 years of my life and never heard this expression...travesty! I don't actually know that is just a scottish expression for being pished, someone I know said they'd heard it up Newcastle way, so maybe it's generally northern in origin..either way it rocks!

Now am going to digress for a moment, follow a random train of thought that just occurred to me. Have you ever noticed that americans don't know what to call people from Scotland? When reffering to scottish people almost every yank that I've met calls them scotch, not a Scot, or Scottish..Scotch. I like that it brings to mind the drink, but it also demonstates to me that yanks are (making a sweeping generalisation) not particularly intelligent. Right, am done on that now.

Zugzwang

I happened upon a new word today...zugzwang. Now other than perhaps being of use in a game of scrabble (does anyone play that anymore?), I think it may be an uderused word, and would implore you to try and introduce it into a conversation within the next week.

Zugzwang is the name of a situation in chess, and was initially german in origin...still reading? Let me explain, it is the compulsion to move when you would rather maintain your current position. Ideally you would like to pass but must make a move,being forced into action which places you at a disadvantage, being forced into a weaker position. As a metaphor I think it has an uncanny yet eloquent way of describing situations we all put ourselves in at times.Ok am done on that theme, just fancied sharing :)

In looking zugzwang up, I came across this site...

http://www.hunter.cuny.edu/classics/russian/draitser/zugzwangkenyon.htm

Jack

Jack, Jack...musical whimsical tunage. If I could add incidental music to this post about jack then it would be the soundtrack by Danny Elfman - the Nightmare before Christmas. Or would it?

I wrote earlier about how we mentally associate certain sounds to places...well jack is a person I am unable to bring to mind without accompanying music springing to mind. And there's quite a list of them with jack...the ba bii bo bii soundtrack to Amelie, Morphine - dressed in blue, Bjork - state of emergency...along with a fair few others.

Jack - days and nights spent drinking sam song in his bungalow, listening to some fabulous tunes, intelligent or very random conversations, ocassionally more...a good friend, impossible to think of without a smile creeping onto my face.

He makes a mean caprainha, never wakes up when he should, would miss the boats constantly and drive his boss insane...I had the best meal of my life so far with jack last year on my birthday. Tom Robbins books, jitterbug perfume, dancing...nice meanderings :)

Jack...look how I gaze at him lovingly!

Prog Rock Band Name

Ever wanted be rock star? What would you call your prog-rock band? BBC Radio Gloucester have a name generator which will help you select!


Quite fun, under my actual name I would be Tangerine at the end of Time! Pretty cool huh?


A few more of my favourites from playing with friends' names are:

Rainbow of the Replicants
Project Toad

Laser light shows and all-in-one velour and sequinned jumpsuits and mullets to y'all!

The West Pier, Brighton.
Spooky, has obviously collapsed and been victim to arson attacks, but note how the only part of it that remains intact is the psychic's hut...hmmm

Seagulls

Okay, I am racking my brains attempting to work out whether seagulls are a yUK phenomenon/indiginous curse or not. Definitely I never saw any in Egypt, Thailand,Nice or Sweden.

Answers on a postcard please...

The seagulls here are prolific, huge and supernoisy, especially at dawn. Funny the sounds that you mentally link with a place (senses as association in memory)...seagulls for Brighton, bullfrogs for pp in monsoon season, chickens and roosters for pp at dawn.They can irritate the crap out of you at the time but how quickly you miss them.

Spot the seagulls. Apologies for the pretentious arty black and white stylie.
Actually I like it and therefore I recind any and all apologies. (West Pier)

Moody and atmospheric...save our pier!!

yup, very british-looking that pavillion

Brighton in summer - the pavillion through the undergrowth,outback-bush stylie ;)

The Beer Scooter

I can take no credit for this...its one of those random things you ocassionally receive through your inbox, yet is so uncanny I feel it needs a wider audience.


THE BEER SCOOTER


How many times have you woken up in the morning after a hard night
drinking and thought: "How on earth did I get home?"


As hard as you try, you cannot piece together your return journey from
the pub to your house.


The answer to this puzzle is that you used a Beer Scooter.


The Beer Scooter is a mythical form of transport, owned and leased to
the drunk by Bacchus the Roman God of Wine. Bacchus has acquired a large
batch of these magical devices. The Beer Scooter works in the following
fashion:


The passenger reaches a certain level of drunkenness and the "slurring
gland" begins to give off a pheromone. Bacchus, or one of his many
sub-contractors detects this pheromone and sends down a winged Beer
Scooter.


The scooter scoops up the passenger and deposits them in their bedroom
via a Trans-Dimensional Portal. This is not cheap to run, so a large
portion of the passenger's in-pocket cash is taken as payment. This
answers the second question after a night out:


"How did I spend so much money?"


Unfortunately, Beer Scooters have a poor safety record and are thought
to be responsible for over 90% of all UDI (Unidentified Drinking
Injuries), such as skinned knees and a sore spot on the top of your
head.


An undocumented feature of the Beer Scooter is the destruction of time
segments during the trip. The nature of Trans-Dimensional Portals
dictates that time will be lost, seemingly unaccounted for. This answers
a third question after a night out:


"What the hell happened?"


With good intentions, Bacchus opted for the REMIT (Removal of
Embarrassing Moments In Time) add-on, that automatically removes, in
descending order, those parts in time regretted most. Unfortunately one
person's REMIT is not necessarily the REMIT of another's and quite often
lost time is regained in discussions over a period of time. Independent
studies have also shown that Beer Goggles often cause the Scooter's
navigation system to malfunction thus sending passengers to the wrong
bedroom, often with horrific consequences.


For the family man, Beer Scooters come equipped with flowers picked from
other people's garden and Thump-A-Lot boots (Patent Pending). These
boots are designed in such a way that no matter how quietly you tip-toe
up the stairs, you are sure to wake up your other half. Special
anti-gravity springs ensure that you bump into every wall in the house
and the CTSGS (Coffee Table Seeking Guidance System) explains the
bruised shins.


The final add-on Bacchus saw fit to invest in for some Scooters is the
TAS (Tobacco Absorption System). This explains how one person can
apparently get through 260 Camel Lights in a single night.


P.S. Don't forget the on-board heater, which allows you to comfortably
get home from the pub in sub-zero temperatures, wearing just a T-shirt

JACK- the fin

Jack, send me the URL or i'll tell all! I mean NOW!