I don’t know why I find it really difficult to keep up with friends. They tend to drift away, and I think that it’s probably largely my own fault. I really envy people that can keep a decent network of friends, especially when they all get on together. None of my individual friends really know each other, and it’s always been a bit uncomfortable when they meet each other.
I’ve never really been a very social person, and I’m inclined to avoid social situations if I can. Whenever I consider asking anyone to a social occasion (or get invited to one), be it dinner, a drink or even just lunch, I talk myself out of it. I immediately think of what might happen – the awkward pauses, running out of things to say, saying the wrong thing, getting invited to another social occasion. I just feel that it’s better not to try. It seems so much easier to just go home. Also, as much as anything, I think about Victoria, and how she would be affected – am I neglecting her if I go without her? If she does come with me, would she find it boring or awkward? I don’t know where all of these thoughts come from; could they be from past experience? In fact, I’ve found myself avoiding all social situations lately. It probably has something to do with a lack of confidence.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
london life, 2006 - part one
We spent the next few days after Goodwood getting back into the London way of life, looking for jobs and a place to live, which is tricky when you don’t have a job. Mercifully someone in Cate’s block of flats had an unsecured wireless connection, so we could surf from the couch which was a bit of luxury. We had a great time with Cate for those few days, and we met her boyfriend Steve, an English sports journalist, when he came over for dinner. Steve turned out to be a really nice guy (wouldn’t expect anything else) and we all got on really well. We had a lovely dinner prepared by Cate, drank lots of red wine and talked well into the night until the insects forced us inside.
Once we had worn out our welcome at Cate’s flat we had an invitation to stay with Shaun, a friend who had moved to London just before I did in 2001, and whom we flatted with for about 8 months in Chiswick. He had a really nice one bedroom garden flat in Vauxhall with a futon we could crash on in the front room. Shaun is well settled in London, and had Homechoice broadband set up, which made it easier to search for work and accommodation. Again, Shaun was so good to us – he was such a kind and generous host, he even cleaned out his under-stairs area so we had somewhere to stash our bags. As it turned out, he was actually away on business for much of the time, so it was almost as though we had our own flat already. That was probably not such a good thing because it made it seem less urgent for us to get accommodation of our own. We really did enjoy our time in Vauxhall – it’s a nice suburb to live in, but strangely devoid of any real High Street, so it feels a bit like it has no focal point, perhaps no soul even. We did become very fond of walking up to the corner to the Brazilian deli to get a sandwich (the lamb and mint was particularly good) and an iced tea, and eating it in the adjacent Vauxhall Park. I wish I'd taken a photo of it now.
Shaun's living room. What can I say? It's the only photo I have.
Anywhere and any time in London, your experience can suddenly be infected by the crazies. In this case we were quietly eating unch in the park when a woman began hysterically screaming the name of someone we assumed was her child right across the (large) park. It turned out to be an adult, possibly a partner/husband who began shouting right back across the park at her. Loses something in the translation, but it really was a very odd episode. One occasion we managed to get out of the flat was for a bit of a wander. We were getting stir crazy, so decided to walk to South Bank. It was a really lovely walk through Kennington, past Waterloo Station and up to the Thames. We checked out the market stalls there and ate our Tesco sandwiches sitting on a bench, watching the interesting characters go by. We ambled back to Vauxhall along the riverside, passing the London aqaurium and making a mental note that we should visit it soon. That made for a decent 7.5 km round trip, and a really nice afternoon.
Once we had worn out our welcome at Cate’s flat we had an invitation to stay with Shaun, a friend who had moved to London just before I did in 2001, and whom we flatted with for about 8 months in Chiswick. He had a really nice one bedroom garden flat in Vauxhall with a futon we could crash on in the front room. Shaun is well settled in London, and had Homechoice broadband set up, which made it easier to search for work and accommodation. Again, Shaun was so good to us – he was such a kind and generous host, he even cleaned out his under-stairs area so we had somewhere to stash our bags. As it turned out, he was actually away on business for much of the time, so it was almost as though we had our own flat already. That was probably not such a good thing because it made it seem less urgent for us to get accommodation of our own. We really did enjoy our time in Vauxhall – it’s a nice suburb to live in, but strangely devoid of any real High Street, so it feels a bit like it has no focal point, perhaps no soul even. We did become very fond of walking up to the corner to the Brazilian deli to get a sandwich (the lamb and mint was particularly good) and an iced tea, and eating it in the adjacent Vauxhall Park. I wish I'd taken a photo of it now.
Shaun's living room. What can I say? It's the only photo I have.Anywhere and any time in London, your experience can suddenly be infected by the crazies. In this case we were quietly eating unch in the park when a woman began hysterically screaming the name of someone we assumed was her child right across the (large) park. It turned out to be an adult, possibly a partner/husband who began shouting right back across the park at her. Loses something in the translation, but it really was a very odd episode. One occasion we managed to get out of the flat was for a bit of a wander. We were getting stir crazy, so decided to walk to South Bank. It was a really lovely walk through Kennington, past Waterloo Station and up to the Thames. We checked out the market stalls there and ate our Tesco sandwiches sitting on a bench, watching the interesting characters go by. We ambled back to Vauxhall along the riverside, passing the London aqaurium and making a mental note that we should visit it soon. That made for a decent 7.5 km round trip, and a really nice afternoon.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
2006, london and goodwood - part two
Also close by was the supercar paddock where some of the latest and greatest supercars and even concept cars were being held. One that stood out was the Peugeot 907 – kudos to Peugeot for letting this amazing concept car go out on the track. Ditto to Saab with their Aero X concept. I spent quite a while here both pawing over the cars and trying to talk to Jock Freemantle of the Hulme F1 company. The MD at my previous workplace had suggested that I ask Jock if he had any contacts in the automotive engineering industry to whom he could introduce me. Of course he was more interested in trying to get investment in his car, so he asked me to send him an email. I did soon after, but never got a reply. When I left the enclosure (arena?) with my mind swimming with Zondas, Koenigseggs, Murcielagos etc, Victoria was waiting for me and we had a quick mosey around the rest of the show. We were pretty tired by this point, so we headed home for the evening before the bulk of the crowds left and thankfully found a parking spot not far from Cate’s flat.
Jock posing proudly with his progeny: the Hulme F1
On Saturday we woke to a particularly grey morning, and not soon after we left the house there were spots of rain on the windscreen. Even though we had left early, the roads were already bursting at the seams, and it seemed like everyone was headed to Goodwood. In comparison to Friday, it was a long and dreary drive. By the time we arrived in the carpark, the rain was pouring down, so we took the opportunity to catch up on some sleep. We woke an hour later to a clearing sky so we weaved our way through the parked cars to the circuit. It rained on and off for most of the day, which took a little of the lustre off the experience, not least because the cars were taking it easy on their way up the hill. That didn't stop the driver of the first Ferrari 599 in the UK from trying a bit too hard and snotting it into the haybales!
One thing that unexpectedly caught my eye at Goodwood was the Zonda, not the car as a whole, but in true engineering nerd fashion, the exposed carbon fibre on the cockpit and various bits of trim. It looks like a 3-harness satin, and was beautifully executed. I found myself wondering how many they had to throw away before they got one that looked just right. Of course, it's just a cosmetic layer, so I wonder what's beneath it, and whether they actually took it into account in the structural design.
Pagani Zonda roof rail and b-pillar in naked 3-harness satin-weave carbon fibre goodness
After a leisurely lunch of a delicious roast pork roll we returned to the car show part of the event. One stand-out here was the company offering to convert your type 964 Porsche 911 to look like a 1970’s model. It sounds like a recipe for disaster, but the results were brilliant! The earlier 911s had a much cleaner look, and these cars captured that perfectly, just with a little more muscle I tried to have a chat with the chap from McRae motorsport about their new bespoke competition car, but he wasn’t interested either; possibly because my first words were “I work for a company that sells composite materials…” His face went blank as soon as I said the word “sell”. Not the best networking skills there. We felt we had seen enough at that point and left, deciding to spend a while exploring the surrounding region. We headed south to Southampton, which we found to be a pleasant place. Interesting medieval walls running through the centre of the town. We stopped at a mall to check out cellphones and did a bit of window shopping. Then back with all the traffic to London again to return the car.
The Civic had been a great little car to drive. The new R-series 1.8 was refined and spun cleanly to the redline, delivering plenty of power across the range. The 6-speed box was a joy to use, sharp and precise with well-matched ratios. The handling was hard to fault, but a little more communication from the front wheels would have been nice. The amount of space the Civic provided came as a surprise, and the ride was comfortable enough for me, even with the 17 inch wheels. On the down side, some parts did have the distinct aroma of accountant, like the very light and plastic-feeling door handles with their sharp edges.
It was a brilliant weekend all round, and I’d love to go back again one day.
Jock posing proudly with his progeny: the Hulme F1On Saturday we woke to a particularly grey morning, and not soon after we left the house there were spots of rain on the windscreen. Even though we had left early, the roads were already bursting at the seams, and it seemed like everyone was headed to Goodwood. In comparison to Friday, it was a long and dreary drive. By the time we arrived in the carpark, the rain was pouring down, so we took the opportunity to catch up on some sleep. We woke an hour later to a clearing sky so we weaved our way through the parked cars to the circuit. It rained on and off for most of the day, which took a little of the lustre off the experience, not least because the cars were taking it easy on their way up the hill. That didn't stop the driver of the first Ferrari 599 in the UK from trying a bit too hard and snotting it into the haybales!
One thing that unexpectedly caught my eye at Goodwood was the Zonda, not the car as a whole, but in true engineering nerd fashion, the exposed carbon fibre on the cockpit and various bits of trim. It looks like a 3-harness satin, and was beautifully executed. I found myself wondering how many they had to throw away before they got one that looked just right. Of course, it's just a cosmetic layer, so I wonder what's beneath it, and whether they actually took it into account in the structural design.
Pagani Zonda roof rail and b-pillar in naked 3-harness satin-weave carbon fibre goodnessAfter a leisurely lunch of a delicious roast pork roll we returned to the car show part of the event. One stand-out here was the company offering to convert your type 964 Porsche 911 to look like a 1970’s model. It sounds like a recipe for disaster, but the results were brilliant! The earlier 911s had a much cleaner look, and these cars captured that perfectly, just with a little more muscle I tried to have a chat with the chap from McRae motorsport about their new bespoke competition car, but he wasn’t interested either; possibly because my first words were “I work for a company that sells composite materials…” His face went blank as soon as I said the word “sell”. Not the best networking skills there. We felt we had seen enough at that point and left, deciding to spend a while exploring the surrounding region. We headed south to Southampton, which we found to be a pleasant place. Interesting medieval walls running through the centre of the town. We stopped at a mall to check out cellphones and did a bit of window shopping. Then back with all the traffic to London again to return the car.
The Civic had been a great little car to drive. The new R-series 1.8 was refined and spun cleanly to the redline, delivering plenty of power across the range. The 6-speed box was a joy to use, sharp and precise with well-matched ratios. The handling was hard to fault, but a little more communication from the front wheels would have been nice. The amount of space the Civic provided came as a surprise, and the ride was comfortable enough for me, even with the 17 inch wheels. On the down side, some parts did have the distinct aroma of accountant, like the very light and plastic-feeling door handles with their sharp edges.
It was a brilliant weekend all round, and I’d love to go back again one day.
Saturday, March 01, 2008
nostalgia
Sometimes I am prone to bouts of nostalgia...
Nostalgia is interesting stuff. On the surface it seems like a nice, fuzzy, happy concept, but look deeper and you'll find that it has a darker underbelly. If you give in to it, it can consume you and block out much of what you are experiencing right now. Is it possible to live in a permanent state of nostalgia, only seeing the good in what has been? A thesaurus will tell you that the following are synonyms: homesickness, wistfulness, longing and melancholy which are right on the money. The really interesting thing is that while nostalgia can make you feel good, it is not a positive feeling in itself - it evokes a melancholic longing for perceived happiness from the past. Perhaps you could say that nostalgia is actually an inability to enjoy the moment, substituting a false sense of quasi-happiness from the past filtered through the distorting lens of memory.
Tellingly, the word nostalgia is derived from the greek nostos (homecoming) and algos (pain, grief or distress).
Nostalgia is interesting stuff. On the surface it seems like a nice, fuzzy, happy concept, but look deeper and you'll find that it has a darker underbelly. If you give in to it, it can consume you and block out much of what you are experiencing right now. Is it possible to live in a permanent state of nostalgia, only seeing the good in what has been? A thesaurus will tell you that the following are synonyms: homesickness, wistfulness, longing and melancholy which are right on the money. The really interesting thing is that while nostalgia can make you feel good, it is not a positive feeling in itself - it evokes a melancholic longing for perceived happiness from the past. Perhaps you could say that nostalgia is actually an inability to enjoy the moment, substituting a false sense of quasi-happiness from the past filtered through the distorting lens of memory.
Tellingly, the word nostalgia is derived from the greek nostos (homecoming) and algos (pain, grief or distress).
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