#oneaday, Day 183: The Waiting Game

After something bad happens, it takes time for things to fall into place. While you're thinking about the bad thing that happened, it seems like an eternity before anything will fall into place and make things seem the slightest bit good again. But then things do start falling into place. And the problem then is that they don't do it fast enough. You can see your final destination, but you're not getting there quick enough. There's a big chasm made of time in the way.

Whoo, deep, huh?

Take now. I've pretty much almost totally nearly in a way kind of 95.7% decided what my next step is going to be. I know I said I'd do it by Day 200. But why wait?

Answer: because I have to. In order to take said next step that I'm 95.7% pretty much almost totally nearly in a way kind of decided about, I have to wait. Specifically, until next week. Next Wednesday is one of those Important Days that will determine what happens next. I'm not going to say anything about it for fear of jinxing it or anything. But let's just say that the outcome of that day should hopefully determine my immediate future at the very least. Which is good. Knowing one's immediate future is good. Knowing one's immediate future is a positive thing is even better, and a positive outcome on this particular day in question will ensure a positive immediate future. I can't speak for the long term, but right now, immediacy is what it's all about. Hah. "Right now, immediacy is what it's all about". Clever.

So I must wait. It's like I've got the Mac OS X pinwheel or the Windows hourglass/swirly Windows 7 thing in front of my life saying "WAIT! STOP! THINK! NO! DON'T THINK! I KNOW YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING BUT I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU WAIT ARBITRARILY!". And there's no way to Ctrl-Alt-Del/Alt-Cmd-Esc out of this waiting period. And turning off isn't an option. I… wait, where was I going with this?

Oh right, waiting. Yes, it sucks. And we're taught that from an early age. Birthdays. Christmas. Easter. "It'll come quicker if you go to bed". No it won't. Unless I sleep until next Wednesday? That's a distinct possibility, though ultimately unproductive and probably bad for… well, everything. Later in life we wait for a response from job applications (which rarely comes), feedback from interviews (I was supposed to have a response from the interview I went to on Friday today, for example, and haven't) and to receive a text back from someone we fancy or to get a scary official letter or to find out if we can buy a house or if our finance has been accepted or… you see where this is all going.

An estimated 85% of our lives (I may have made that up. Which, technically, counts as an estimate.) is spent waiting. Wouldn't it be great if we could just say "I've decided this! What do you think?" and someone could say "Yes!" or "No!" and then we could get on with something else. I'm pretty sure everyone would get a whole lot more done that way.

But no. Instead we sit here clockwatching.

Tick.

Boom.

#oneaday, Day 182: The Game of Life

Gamers—be they the video- or roleplaying- variety—have a tendency to think things through in terms of their favourite hobby. This is perhaps best exemplified by the EpicWin app I discussed a few days ago. In fact, I'm astonished that no-one has thought to do that kind of thing before. Given that every single boring-as-hell social game that infests Facebook right now has its reward mechanic tied to experience points, it's curious that no-one has previously thought to apply this to the real world.

With that in mind, I'd like to present a situation that I encountered earlier today in the style of an event log from a rather tedious-sounding game.

—

You are sitting at your computer.

?>LOOK AT COMPUTER

The computer is on. The screen displays the Mac OS X desktop.

?>USE COMPUTER

For what?

?>PLAY A GAME ON THE COMPUTER

You decide to fire up Civilization IV.

You are Hungry.

?>STATUS

Pete, Lv 29 Nerd

HP: 489/521
MP: 12/90

Status: Hungry

Would you like more information?>NO

?>WEST

You are in a corridor. The front door is to the south. The corridor continues to the west and north. There is a door to the north-west.

There is a bunch of keys here.

?>WEST

You are in the living room. The kitchen is to the north-east. The corridor is to the east.

?>NE

You are in the kitchen.

There is a fridge here.

There is a cupboard here.

?>OPEN CUPBOARD

You open the cupboard.

You see:
crisps

?>TAKE CRISPS

Taken.

?>EAT CRISPS

You eat the crisps. They're tasty, but a bit dry in your mouth.

You are no longer Hungry.

You are Thirsty.

?>OPEN FRIDGE

You open the fridge.

?>LOOK IN FRIDGE

The fridge is pretty bare.

There is a jam jar here.

?>TAKE JAM JAR

You don't feel like you need the jam jar for anything right now.

Your throat is dry.

?>LOOK IN FRIDGE

The fridge is pretty bare.

There is a jam jar here.

?>HINT

There's nothing to drink in the house… maybe you should go find something somewhere else?

?>SW

Living room.

?>E

Corridor.

?>S

The front door is closed.

?>OPEN DOOR

You open the front door.

?>S

You exit the front door and let it slam shut behind you.

It occurs to you that you might not be carrying your keys.

?>INVENTORY

You are carrying:
iPhone
Wallet

You are not carrying your keys.

?>SHIT

There's no need for that sort of language.

?>FUCK

Who do you want to FUCK?

?>YOUR MOM

Let's not be immature.

You are afflicted with Mild Annoyance.

?>LOOK

You're in a hallway. Your front door lies to the north. The corridor continues to the east.

?>OPEN DOOR

The door's not locked, but it is stuck.

?>OPEN DOOR

It's still stuck.

?>OPEN DOOR

You can't open it.

You are afflicted with Irritation.

?>E

You walk down the corridor and exit your block.

You're outside your block. You can see your bedroom window from here. To the south is the alcove that holds the block's dumpsters.

Your bedroom window is slightly ajar.

You're really thirsty.

?>OPEN WINDOW

You can't reach it. It's on the first floor.

?>CLIMB WINDOW

You can't climb the window.

?>LOOK AT WINDOW

The window is a good certain-number-of-feet-that-is-too-far-to-reach metres off the ground. There are iron railings in front of it. There is also a narrow ledge leading along to it, and a drainpipe running up the wall next to it.

?>CLIMB DRAINPIPE

DEX check: Failed (Impossible)

You take 7 damage from Thirst.

?>CLIMB DRAINPIPE

DEX check: Failed (Impossible)

?>LOOK AT LEDGE

It looks narrow enough to shimmy along. But your throat tightens at the thought of doing something pretty dangerous like that. Also, it's broad daylight. You don't really want to get the police involved.

?>CLIMB ON LEDGE

WIS check: Success

You think doing this would be a really bad idea, so you decide not to.

?>HINT

You can't reach the window. Perhaps you should climb on something?

?>CLIMB DRAINPIPE

DEX check: Failed (Impossible)

?>S

You push your way through the jungle of trash and find yourself in the dumpster alcove.

There are some dumpsters here.

?>PUSH DUMPSTER

CON check: Failed

You reach out to grab a dumpster, but the sheer volume of rubbish in here makes you nauseous, so you run back out again.

You take 7 damage from Nausea.

?>INVENTORY

You are carrying:
iPhone
Wallet

?>PHONE LANDLORD

WIS check: Success

It's Sunday. What do you think phoning them will achieve?

?>TEXT FRIENDS

About what?

?>ASK FRIENDS FOR LADDER

You text a selection of friends whom you think might have a ladder.

You are afflicted with Mild Panic.

?>STATUS

Pete, Lv 29 Nerd

HP: 475/521
MP: 8/90

Status: Thirsty, Irritation, Mild Panic

Would you like more information?>NO

?>WAIT

Time passes…

You take 7 damage from Thirst.

?>WAIT

Time passes…

You take 7 damage from Thirst.

You are low on MP.

You are afflicted with MURDEROUS RAGE!!

?>W

You enter your block. At least you don't need a key to get inside the building.

Hallway.

?>N

The door is closed.

?>OPEN DOOR

Yep, still stuck.

?>OPEN DOOR

Yep, still stuck.

?>BASH DOOR

You attack the door.

You hit Door for 0 damage.

You take 1 damage.

?>BASH DOOR

You attack the door.

You hit Door for 0 damage.

You take 1 damage.

?>BASH DOOR

You attack the door.

You hit Door for 0 damage.

You take 1 damage.

?>BASH DOOR

You attack the door.

You hit Door for 0 damage.

You take 1 damage.

?>BASH DOOR

This doesn't seem to be working, does it?

You take 2 damage from Stubbornness.

You are still afflicted with MURDEROUS RAGE!!

?>RAGE

You channel the force of your MURDEROUS RAGE!!

You feel stronger!

?>BASH DOOR

You attack the door. (+5 Strength from MURDEROUS RAGE!!)

Door takes 50 damage.

There is a crunching sound.

Door is afflicted with Open.

?>OPEN DOOR

It's already open.

?>LOOK AT DOOR

Despite the crunching sound, you don't appear to have done any damage to the lock or the door.

?>N

You slip inside before the door closes again.

Corridor.

?>TAKE KEYS

Taken.

If only you'd remembered these earlier.

?>S

The door slams shut behind you.

?>LOCK DOOR

You lock the door.

?>E

You leave your block, and head for the shops to buy some Coke.

*** YOU WIN! ***

Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game or QUIT?>QUIT

C:\EVILDOOR>_

#oneaday, Day 181: Vampire: Bloodlines

Body clock buggered up today. After getting to bed late last night, I slept solidly until about lunchtime. Nice, but ultimately unproductive, as it means here I am at 3AM in the morning.

Actually, there's another reason I stayed up so late, and that is Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines.

This is a game I've been meaning to play for absolutely ages. I'm a big fan of the White Wolf interpretation of vampirism and, to be honest, vampires in general. Just not the Twilight variety. Granted, I have never read or seen Twilight beyond reading a two-chapter preview on iBooks on my phone, but already both Bella and Edward seemed to be some of the most unsympathetic arseholes I've ever had the misfortune to come across in a book.

But that's beside the point.

White Wolf's interpretation of vampirism focuses much more on clan-based political intrigue, with each clan having its own unique outlook on life, special abilities and, in some cases, quirks. Part of the reason for this is for gameplay balancing in the pen-and-paper RPG. Instead of picking a character class, you pick a clan, and that determines your specialisms. But the pen-and-paper Vampire RPG is heavily focused on the RP bit as opposed to the G bit, meaning that these character backgrounds are hugely important from the perspective of actually playing your character in a realistic manner.

Bloodlines was the second Vampire game to hit the PC. The first, Redemption, was a mixed bag. It was notable for having a pretty good script, solid voice acting and (at the time) quite nice graphics. But the Diablo-style clicky-clicky combat really didn't work from the close-up over-the-shoulder camera view adopted. The AI of party members was beyond "dumbass". And there were lots of monumentally irritating bits where you had to sneak a four-person party through areas of sunlight. I never finished it as it got a bit frustrating, though I would like to return to it one day.

Bloodlines took a different approach. Based on an early version of the Source engine, it plays more like Deus Ex than anything else. You walk around LA from a first- or third-person perspective, meet people, talk to them, possibly suck their blood, fight them, complete quests in a variety of different ways and get involved in all the point-toothed intrigue you could shake a stake at.

The game was renowned for being hugely buggy on its original release. I haven't noticed any showstopping bugs since I've been playing this evening—one or two minor graphical glitches, sure, but that's more the old Source engine than the game itself I think. What I have noticed, though, is that it's an utterly fantastic game. While it appears that the overarching narrative takes a while to get going—I played several hours tonight and couldn't tell you what the "main" plot thread was—one of the best things the game does, much like Deus Ex, is immerse you in the game world. There are people in this world going about their business, and they are genuine characters whom you get to know and recognise.

One of the most compelling, immersive things about playing as a White Wolf vampire is the idea of the "Masquerade", where vampires must hide their true nature from humans. In game terms, this means that you mustn't let people see you feeding, using any obviously supernatural abilities or doing anything "vampirey". There are get-out clauses to this, though; seduce a human using your vampiric seduction skills and they won't mind you biting them, for example. But if anyone sees you doing that, you're in trouble.

So far I've really enjoyed what I've played. The balance between the RPG stat-building and the action-based combat is good, and some of the dialogue is genuinely well-written. The World of Darkness is introduced gradually in such a way that isn't daunting to new players but isn't patronising to those who know the lore.

In short, then, I can highly recommend the game from what I've seen so far. It's currently available on Steam and via Direct2Drive. Good luck finding a physical copy if that's your thing.

#oneaday, Day 180: Exhausted

This is going to be a brief one, and for that I apologise. It's been a very, very, very long day.

Had my interview today. Journey to Newbury was absolutely fine with no hiccups. The interview went well, the people were very pleasant and they very much enjoyed my presentation which featured a selection of stick-Pete pictures to liven up the slides, one of which you can see in the corner. I'm still not convinced about the job itself, though I felt quite positive about the interview.

The thing that switches me off a bit is that it would involve relocating and a lot of travel. Right now, I really don't have the finances to be able to fund that sort of thing. It suggests to me that it is something I could maybe do in the future, but it's not the right time to do it now. In the meantime, I have another job interview the Wednesday after next that will allow me to move back home for a bit, raise a bit of money and get myself sorted in preparation for whatever awesomeness is hopefully around the corner.

So that's almost kind of sort of decided, then. As much as it pains me to leave Southampton, the overwhelming response from a lot of people to my question the other day was that making a new start is easier if you make a physical move as well. And okay, going back home isn't exactly a completely fresh start. But it's something to build on, and it's a change. And change is good, apparently.

What wasn't so good today was the journey back. As I left the building where the interview was taking place, it started to rain. That stupid kind of rain where it's still sunny but you get soaked at the same time. Then it stopped. Then it started again.

I hid in the forecourt of a BP garage until it passed and looked at Google Maps to find my way back to the train station. Turned out the train station was actually very close to where I was, but on the other side of some kind of waterway. And it didn't look like there were any ways across.

Fortunately, there was a footbridge that wasn't marked on the map. Said waterway turned out to be a canal, which meant there was a pathway all along the side of it… and no way to get out to the station which was tantalisingly out of reach. I ended up walking about a mile to reach somewhere that was probably less than 200 yards away. Oh well.

Then I got the train back. The journey involved a change of trains at Reading. Changing trains is always stressful because there's always that worry that you'll miss your connection. In this case, it turned out to be true, but it wasn't my fault. The timetables on the station at Reading bore absolutely no resemblance to the trains that were actually coming and going. I ended up stuck in Reading station for nearly two hours, lack of sleep rapidly catching up with me until I did doze off on a bench like a well-dressed vagrant only to be shaken awake by another besuited man asking me if I needed to get on the Oxford train that was about to leave.

"No," I said groggily. "Thank you." Then I closed my eyes again.

When the train I did need eventually arrived, I decided to get into the "quiet" carriage where theoretically mobile phones and stereos are banned. However, what was not banned was the screechy Brummie hen party in there who were flirting noisily with all and sundry and getting incredibly drunk. I just wanted to sleep. Noisy, screechy drunk women are bad enough. Throw in a Brummie accent and… well, you can imagine.

When I did eventually get back to Southampton I was in full-on zombie mode. I shambled my way back to my flat, collapsed into bed for an hour or two and then set about the day's business of writing.

And now here I am. At 3.30am. Tired. But it's Saturday tomorrow. And I intend on sleeping until lunchtime. So there.

#oneaday, Day 179: Back to...

Evening all. After the considerable amount of depravity that took place last night I'm pleased to report something of a return to normality, though my head doesn't quite believe that yet, still wobbling a little bit as it is. I'd also like to assure everyone that this post is written entirely by me and no other drunken people passing my phone around and sharing their pearls of wisdom with the world.

On a side note, whoever wrote this:

This is going terribly badly, but it pretty much sums up how tonight is going with the drink flowing freely like paradise city if the drink flowed freely instead of the girls being pretty.

I actually love you. Well done.

It wasn't me. I don't think. I'd remember coming up with something like that.

Anyway. Today has been largely wasted in a hung-over haze. We didn't get home until well after 5 in the morning. The sun was rising, the birds were singing; it would have been quite beautiful were we not all quite so obliterated with the incredibly strong vodka we'd been plied with. Still, despite five completely necessary yet discreet early-morning trips to the bathroom that I am assured no-one else heard, we all slept very well. Admittedly, most of us not in our own houses. But we slept well nonetheless.

A little too well, in fact. Despite waking up repeatedly for aforementioned bodily cries for help, I fell asleep until well after lunchtime. There was no sign of my previous night's companions, and a croaky-voiced shout of "anyone up yet?" outside the bedroom doors didn't elicit any response. So eventually I figured enough was enough. I shouted a crackly "goodbye" and staggered out into the street feeling more than a little bit shaky. I realised that I wasn't quite sure where I actually was in town, and the battery on my phone had died in the night.

Luckily, it wasn't difficult to get back into town, and I plied myself with a coffee and a bacon sandwich that I ate very, very carefully. I managed to make it home without succumbing to the hugely lazy desire to get a taxi for a trip of less than a mile. When I got back in, I slumped on the couch for a bit and stared at the wall, half-asleep. But there was work to do; I have a job interview tomorrow, and there's a presentation to deliver as part of it.

Trouble is, this job is in a field that I'm sure I could do but have little to no experience in. I'm not a marketer, though I've written stuff that could technically be classed as "PR" in the past. I know my way around social networking and know how to promote things; but at the same time I don't want to become one of those douchebags who describe themselves as a "social media guru".

Nor am I particularly enamoured with the idea of wearing a suit, which this job sounds like it will require. Suits look great on the right person, sure. But particularly in the summer months, there are few things more unpleasant to wear than a suit. Heavy woolen trousers and jacket? Shirt that seems to get sweaty pits as soon as you put it on? No thanks.

As you may have gathered, for a variety of reasons, I'm not feeling particularly fired up about this interview. I'm not sure why; ever since the company first got back to me and expressed an interest it hasn't felt quite "right". Initially, this was because of the prospect of having to move to a new city for it. I've kind of accepted the fact that that is going to be pretty much inevitable now, given the startling lack of any jobs that are the slightest bit interesting in Southampton. But even accepting that, things still didn't feel quite "right". It doesn't feel like the right fit for me.

The advice of friends has convinced me that I should go anyway, see what the company's like, scope the place out and get a feel for it. If it turns out to be awesome, great. If not, 1) it doesn't matter because I have other prospects lined up and 2) it's good experience.

A job's a job, I know. But there are other prospects on the horizon that, while they pay less, offer the opportunity for much, much more in the way of happiness. And at the end of the day, I think that's the most important thing.

#oneaday, Day 178: Communal Blogging

Each sentence in this entry will be written by a different person.

And then they all had massive rump steak.

Fucking gaga!!! Silly mirror ball! Why does she look like glitter barbie threw up on her and then took a crap for good measure??!!

And then it got out of the flower pot and it ran away.

But then, the matron said, it was doomed to failure!

Whathchu call me mutha fucka!!!

Ultimately the result is group sex but with monkeys from longleat

Didn't umderstand tight jeans double Ds make the boys go WHOOP WHOOP

WHY DO I KEEP SEEING CARTOON CHARACTERS

WHY SO SERIOUS?!?!!

We are dancing, oh yes indeed. Riverside, motherfucker.

Le chien mange le sauce de pomme pour protege le neuve desin

Heeeeeeeeeee deeeee managgggggaaaaaaaaaaaa immmmeaaaaaa say, nanannaaaaaawaeeeeeeeede. The circle of life.

Oh hell no!

This is going terribly badly, but it pretty much sums up how tonight is going with the drink flowing freely like paradise city if the drink flowed freely instead of the girls being pretty.

Nothing is real, everything is permitted.

Something smells like the straining from the devils jock strap. Ecuador!

Dance music is terrible, but somehow becomes awesome when you're drunk…. Ecuador!!

Its here I loop the loop
Insanely Whoop de whoop
Cuz my rhymes are fly
Make you touch the sky
Yeah……….bitch

WTF??? I don't get it! Make it stop?! Fizzy make feel nice!

Fizzygood! I think that's a good place to stop. This doesn't make sense. A hearty thank you to Elana, Kalam, me, Richard, Graham and possibly some other people I've forgotten. Thank you for participating in this hideous experiment. Good night!

#oneaday, Day 177: Sandwich

The familiar melody of the alarm on his phone sounded, waking him from his slumber suddenly. He had been having a dream of some description; it had felt enormously real at the time, but now, in the soft light of morning creeping through the crack in the curtains that she always used to hate, it was already dissipating. A cloud of memory, rising into the sky and disappearing.

He leaned over and grabbed his phone, squinting at the time through blurry vision. It felt too early. But it was a perfectly normal time to get up; quite late for some, even. It didn't feel important to get up, though. He wanted to stay lying there, gazing at nothingness, contemplating all that had come to pass and all there was to come. But at the same time, he knew that would achieve nothing. He remembered simpler times, when lying in bed meant something different; a time when it meant closeness, comfort, intimacy. Now, what did it mean?

His phone chimed as a well-timed message from a friend broke his reverie and stirred his mind into action. He was grateful to her for that; she always knew the right time to say something, even if it was just "hello". He quickly tapped out a message back to her and lay back down, closing his eyes for a moment, phone clutched in his hand.

It vibrated in his hand; a reply, and an admonishment that he should really get up rather than lying there feeling sorry for himself. Smiling weakly to himself, he did so, and staggered out of the bedroom into the hallway, through the living room and into the kitchen.

The fridge was almost empty; it had been ever since that day. He'd only stocked up on the essentials as and when he needed them. There was little point doing anything elaborate for one. There was a pack of bacon, already open and wrapped in tin foil. He picked it up and walked over to the grill, flipping it on and laying the foil out on a tray. He carefully removed two rashers of bacon from the pack and washed its sliminess from his hands, then slid the tray under the rapidly-heating grill.

More memories popped into his head; unwelcome guests. Once, there would have been four rashers on that tray, and once the kettle would have been boiling ready to make a cup of tea, perfectly timed to be ready as the bacon finished. The radio would have been on, blaring out some sort of interminably awful pop music, and the room would have felt full of life. Now it felt like a shadow of its former self, like a graveyard. Spirits inhabited the room, but they'd never be coming back.

The smell of the gradually-grilling bacon wafted to his nostrils as he got out a plate and two slices of bread. He'd butter the bread for her and leave his plain. And when it was done, he'd carry them all back to the bedroom and climb back into bed, ready to eat the food, listen to something together and, after that, enjoy a moment or two of quiet intimacy.

If he did that now, though, there would just be that same awful silence. There was no reason to go back into that room now he was up; the shadows would just claim him if he did, and the day would be gone.

He pulled the tray out from under the grill and flipped the bacon quickly with his fingertips, cursing to himself at how hot it was. Then he slid it back under, that smell filling the whole room now. It was a smell that most people find comforting, whatever state they're in; happy, sad, hungover, sober—there's always room for a bacon sandwich. He wasn't sure how he felt about it right now, as tied to these memories as it was. But he wasn't about to let things he could do nothing about spoil his enjoyment of the best thing about the morning.

It was time. He pulled the tray out again and quickly transferred the bacon to the bread, cursing again at how hot it was. The rapidly-diminishing bottle of HP sauce was already upturned ready to spill its contents onto the sandwich, just as it should be.

And he closed the sandwich, walked into the living room and sat on the couch, staring at the switched-off TV. And thus began another day alone.

#oneaday, Day 176: Real-World Spam

A while back, when I was feeling rather more positive and "I can do anything!" I was hoping to support myself through a combination of freelance writing, music teaching and computer tuition. As such, I set up some websites, I took out some adverts with Yell, Thomson and the like and waited for the customers to come rolling in.

No-one did. I got one pupil for some GCSE tuition and a couple of timewasters on the music front, and nothing at all on the computer tuition front.

Actually, that's not quite true. I have got one thing out it all. MASSES AND MASSES OF FUCKING HARASSMENT FROM TWATS.

I had no idea that advertising one's services on Yell would lead to such a bombardment of crap from people who obviously haven't read your advert. Every single day, I get a ton of identical bullshit through my letterbox, all informing me that "recruiting a new salesman is difficult" and that I should clearly defer to their superior judgement. The bizarre thing is that all these "salesman finding specialists", or whatever the hell they are, seem to have written the exact same letter. And none of them have considered the fact that someone offering "IT tuition" probably doesn't need a salesman, because he probably isn't selling anything.

It didn't stop there, either. The phone calls! Jesus Christ, the phone calls. One woman from Yell phoned me regularly. The first time, I woke up to her phone call on the sofa the morning after my wife and I had split. Not recognising the number, not thinking particularly straight and hoping it might be something job-related, I answered it. I was immediately embroiled in one of those sales pitches that it's impossible to escape from, or get a word in edgeways. I placated her with a promise that I'd "think about it". Foolish. I should have just said "no". Because "I'll think about it" translated to "Please phone me! A lot!". Funny thing about a five-year relationship coming to a sudden and unexpected end; you don't think particularly straight immediately after it has happened. (Or months afterward, as it happens. At least if you're me.)

Then there was "Nathan". Nathan represented some local school who was nowhere near my potential "catchment area" for music pupils. He wanted me to pay him £200 for two years' exposure in the school's brochure. Said exposure would take the form of a tiny little advert that was, as I say, only visible to a select group of people who were nowhere near me. But Nathan wouldn't take no for an answer. Nor would he give up after two weeks of me not answering the phone at all. I dialed "1571" to check my messages one day, and there were ten new ones, all from Nathan, all starting in the exact same way. Get the hint.

In some ways, the tenacity of these people is admirable. But it's also extremely irritating. You can be a good marketer without pissing people off. These people failed miserably.

So the moral of this story is twofold. 1) Don't advertise anything with "IT" in its title unless you want to be bombarded with mail from pricks who don't read your ads. 2) Say "no" when you mean "no".

#oneaday, Day 175: Please Insert Disc 2

Every day, it feels more and more like life is coming to the end of a chapter. No-one has said that irritating "as one door closes, another one opens" truism at me this time around, but I'm sure more than a few people have thought it. But the fact is, things are coming to a conclusion here. As much as I hate the thought of it, it's looking like the "Southampton" chapter of my life is coming to an end. At some point in the next couple of months, it will be time to save my game, swap discs and enter a brand new tomorrow. Whether Disc 2 contains the same geography and different cutscenes or a whole new world map to explore remains to be seen. But it's going to happen, regardless, and there's nothing I can do about that. Events that were set in motion over a year ago have brought things to this stage. It sucks, but the best way through it is to just grit one's teeth and shoulderbarge through it, hoping that nothing grabs on and bites me in the neck or anything.

My metaphors are getting more and more mixed and tortured, so I'll stop that there. Let's just say that tomorrow is going to be the beginning of the end of this chapter. I'm going to put my notice in on my flat. I can't afford it by myself. And I don't like to be a drain on my parents' resources, as awesome as they have been to me. More to the point, cutting all ties with the past will be much easier once this place, full of those crystallised memories as it still is, is left behind.

The beginning of the next chapter is what is not clear. On Friday, I have a job interview. This job is based in Bristol. I have nothing against Bristol, and in fact have two friends who live there already and like it very much. But something doesn't quite feel "right" about this job. I can't explain it. It's like a feeling in my gut. "Don't do this," it says. "It's not right. However good the pay is."

After some careful consideration and the advice of a close friend, I'm going to do the interview anyway and scope out the company. Unlike past interviews I've had for school-based positions, "real jobs" don't tend to put you on the spot and insist you take or leave it straight away. Or so I'm led to believe, anyway. If nothing else, there should be a waiting period while they deliberate and do whatever they do with ticklists, points systems, dark sacrifices and… hey, I've never recruited anyone, all right? I have no idea how it works. In that time, I can reflect on whether or not it's the right thing to do.

The alternatives are as follows.

1. To find a cheap crappy flat here in Southampton and pray that another job I applied for today comes off. Said job is based in Reading, which is in commuting distance of Southampton. I could move to Reading, but I really don't want to as it's a shithole. Job in question is right up my alley, though, and paid well. It was only advertised a few days ago, though, so it may be some time before I hear from that.

2. To move back home for a while. To that end, my good buddy Edd has promised to put in a good word for me at his place of employment in Cambridge. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, moving back home will be a good way to raise some money, get back on my feet and basically deal with all this. On the other hand, it means leaving behind people who are very important to me. I can always go and visit them, sure, but it's not the same as knowing they're just around the corner from me. Cambridge is a long way from Southampton. At the same time, though, I get to hang out with people I haven't had the chance to hang out with for extended periods of time for ages.

3. To look somewhere completely different. I've pretty much ruled this one out. If I don't get the Bristol gig, I'm not moving to an unfamiliar city if at all possible.

It's a difficult situation, but the sooner I come to terms with the fact that dealing with it is going to involve some sacrifices—God knows I've had to put up with enough of those already—the better.

Here's a promise then: by Day 200 on this blog, decisions will have been made and my path will have been set. For better or worse.

#oneaday, Day 174: Stag of the Dump

Congratulations, if you please, to my good friend Mr Samuel T Ewins, who is getting married in a few weeks' time. Whatever my own feelings on the institution of marriage and the people who enter into it right now, it's always a good thing to see two people find each other, fall in love and want to publicly declare their intention to spend their lives together. So congratulations to Sam and Helen, who will be tying the knot very soon.

Tonight it was Sam's stag night. Rather like myself on my own stag night, Sam had no desire to end up chained to a lamppost, vomiting blood, resisting arrest and babbling about invading aliens, or whatever it is that stereotypes do on their stag nights. Instead, he decided he wanted to gather together a bunch of friends and do some of the things we mutually love the best. This meant board games, curry and poker, interspersed with wine, Coke and coffee.

We started the day with a friendly game of Ticket to Ride. After I purchased it on a whim some time back now, it's become one of our most consistently-played games. This is thanks in part to its simplicity to play but its surprising depth. It's also a completely different experience depending on how many people you have to play with. And not only that, its simplicity means that it's easy to teach to new people, making it an excellent gateway game for people who've never gone beyond traditional staples such as Scrabble and Monopoly.

I won. This is cause for celebration, as I don't often win. And in a five-player game, too. Five-player Ticket to Ride is a pretty fraught experience, as the board fills up a lot quicker than it does usually. This means that rather than taking your time to amass a huge number of cards as you can in a three-player match, you generally have to jump in and claim the important routes quickly whilst taking care to not broadcast your intentions to the other players. This isn't always easy. There's an element of poker-face amongst experienced players, but sometimes you can't resist yelling an obscenity into an opponent's face.

Next up we played Agricola. I'm normally complete shit at this game, so I tried a new tack to what I normally do, which clearly doesn't work. I ended up coming second for once. Of course, this may have had something to do with the very different dynamic the five-player game has. I'm chalking it up to my new strategy. Which inevitably won't work next time I try it. But oh well; I have to take what I can get in that game! It's a great game, I just suck at it pretty consistently.

Then we went for curry. We tried a new place in town called the Coriander Lounge (I think) which was quite expensive but really, really good. Took quite a while for the food to arrive, but it was good when it did. I had a lamb madras which was just the right level of spicy, and the lamb in it was cooked to perfection. Lamb in takeaway curries is often rather tough and overcooked, but this was beautiful. Flaked apart with a touch of the fork and was lovely and juicy.

A couple of the others went for a dish I forgot the name of, but which was served on a large plate with lots of smaller dishes atop it. Each dish contained what was basically a "sampler" for several different curries. It was a nice idea and I found myself wishing I'd had that when I saw it! The madras was good, though. (Do you capitalise "madras"?)

Then we went back to play some poker. I fared less well than last time thanks to some unfortunate draws and more than a couple of things weighing on my mind at the time. But at least I wasn't first out. I was, um, second. Still, it remains good fun. And the experience of playing in person truly makes me wonder how it is in the slightest bit possible to play online, given that you have no real way of reading other people or "bullying" them. Still, online poker is a hugely successful industry and popular pastime, so perhaps there's something I'm missing.

So it was a good night all round. Managed to keep my mind off things that are bothering me. And I think Sam had the night he was hoping for. I call that a success.