A valentine to - - -

She lives in my thoughts and my dreams,
  Garbed in a white satin dress.
Gerberas shining brightly against creams,
  Parading towards my eternal caress.
Alas! Having woken from this glorious slumber,
  My precious bride is I know not where.
Pluck’d abruptly like an irrational number
  Divided to the root of its square.
And so, in the fine tradition of Edgar Allan Poe,
  Her name I keep forever;
Encrypted gracefully apropos
  To be kept for in case of good weather.
Search within nouns and verbs,
  For three divine names: my obsession.
In each line, you may find it perturbs,
  That you can never unravel the question.
But for now, three delicate words
  Are my only treasured possession.

So tired

I’m so tired, I haven’t slept a wink
I’m so tired, my mind is on the blink
I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink
no, no, no.

I’m so tired, I don’t know what to do
I’m so tired, my mind is set on you
I wonder should I call you but I know what you would do

You’d say I’m putting you on
but it’s no joke, it’s doing me harm
you know I can’t sleep, I can’t stop my brain
you know it’s three weeks, I’m going insane
you know I’d give you everything I’ve got
for a little peace of mind.

I’m so tired, I’m feeling so upset
Although I’m so tired, I’ll have another cigarette
and curse Sir Walter Raleigh
He was such a stupid get.

You’d say I’m putting you on
but it’s no joke, it’s doing me harm
you know I can’t sleep, I can’t stop my brain
you know it’s three weeks, I’m going insane
you know I’d give you everything I’ve got
for a little peace of mind.

Give you everything I’ve got
for a little peace of mind.

I’d give you everything I’ve got
for a little peace of mind.

Iguana marketing

So, by now we are all familiar (and getting bored) with the Iguanagate story. Politician gets drunk, threatens staff, falsifies legal documents, and gets hounded by the press for weeks afterwards. Meanwhile, the Iguana Nightclub enjoys unprecedented levels of free publicity. The problem is, the story will soon blow over, and they will go back to relative obscurity.

What better time, therefore, to add to the hype and build up your business by introducing a new slogan?

Weekend work

So, after a two-day week (Monday being a public holiday, Tuesday-Wednesday on Brampton Island), I have about three days worth of work to catch up on the weekend. The system doesn’t work, I tell you! Somehow I also have to find the time to clean the house and get various other bits and pieces back together.

It’s at times like this that the Start -> Shut Down function may just come in handy. Later.

Up, up and away!

Tuesday was spent on a hellish voyage to Brampton island, with plane after plane being cancelled. I arrived at Thousandairre (Sydney) Airport at 7:30am amidst heavy fog that delayed my flight until 10am. A quick stopover at Brisbane, and then on to Mackay, when I was supposed to board a flight to Brampton at 2pm.

Unfortunately, I had been booked on a flight from Brampton to Mackay, and so had to hang around the airport until 5pm. Luckily, I had brought with me Robin Hobb’s excellent novel Assassin’s Apprentice, and entertained myself with that.

After landing on Brampton I had a quick tour, a second-rate meal and then went to bed. The greatest thing about hotels/resorts is that you can wake up at 2am and watch the football, without having to get out of bed. Spain vs Russia was a thoroughly entertaining match.

Wednesday morning, and I had a lot of work to catch up on due to the delayed flights. I got cracking at 7, and was merrily gallivanting around the site when a staff member grabbed me and rushed me off to reception.

Receptionist: You were supposed to be on the 9am flight.

Me: I leave Mackay at 2:15pm. I do not need to be on the 9am flight.

Receptionist: But you were supposed to be on the 9am flight.

This conversation continued for a short while, until it transpired that she had already shifted me on to the 12 o’clock flight (ie, the flight which I was initially supposed to catch).

Having escaped this conversation, I proceeded back outside to mingle with the more intelligent inhabitants of the island - including a couple of hundred fruit bats, and a couple of thousand bull ants. This last encounter was one-sided and painful, but I preferred it to speaking to the receptionist.

After taking in the remaining scenic sights of the island (including the powerhouse, desalination plant and sewage treatment plant), I headed back to catch my flight home. On the way over there were four passengers, and I was too tired to pay attention to what was going on. This time however, it was just me and the pilot.

The decor of the aircraft was remarkably similar to that of a notorious Datsun 200B I once travelled in. I sat in a bucket seat next to the driver, with a sheepskin cover, and a window that didn’t quite function properly (it took me and the pilot a minute to work out how to close it). There was no steering wheel cover, and no LaneChanger 2000 (a giant rearvision mirror extension), but everything else was vintage 1970s class.

True to form, it took five or six tries to get the engine started. Luckily, I wasn’t required to get out and push.

During the flight the pilot gave me a crash course in aircraft navigation; apparently you don’t really need to be touching the controls mid-flight. I impressed him with my comprehensive knowledge of aircraft flying (ie, you are supposed to take-off and land into the wind).

Landing at Mackay, I headed to the airport lounge, managed to scam free internet from the Qantas Club, and then slept all the way to Sydney.

Angst

16 hours in planes and airport lounges over the last two days. An hour spent with three police officers who together couldn’t muster up enough brain cells to cook an omlette. A cold, lonely bed to look forward to.

Now is truly the winter of my discontent.