#oneaday, Day 111: Post-Mortem

Good morning! Lovely day, isn't it? Who am I kidding? It's grey and miserable outside and I woke up at midday. Rather than just lying there stewing in my own self-pity and the stench of a night out, though, I decided to get out into the fresh air and locate some decent coffee before I melted into a puddle of apathy on the floor. Now I'm back and not actually feeling too bad.

After any drunken night out, it's always wise to take stock of anything stupid you may have done in order to prepare yourself for any potential repercussions. As technology has advanced, the number of ways in which one can humiliate oneself has exponentially increased. Pre-mobile phones, you could just make a twat of yourself in person. Then there were phone calls. Then there were text messages, emails, tweets, Facebook, blogs and all manner of other media with which to do something dumb. Fortunately, the evidence seems to suggest that I only used a few of these last night. This was largely due to the fact my iPhone battery ran out partway through the evening thanks to us all playing with the Omegle app in the pub before moving on to nightclub "Unit", where ChatRoulette was playing on a big screen, cocks and all.

So, let's look at the statistics, then.:

Friends getting lost: 1
Friends unable to open their own front door because they were turning their key the wrong way: 1 (the same person)

Phone calls made: 0
Phone calls received: 2 (from the above person)

Voicemails left: 0
Voicemails received: 1 (from the above person)

Text messages sent: 18
Text messages received: 11
Text messages sent to people I shouldn't have: 0 (whew)
Text messages I regret sending: 0 (double whew)
Text messages along the lines of "I LUV U UR SO AWESOME LOL": 4
Text messages containing spelling errors: 17
Text messages containing perfect spelling: 1
Text messages containing errant punctuation: 1
Inadvertent mentions of sadistic/masochistic sexual practices: 1

Tweets tweeted: 13
@replies: 1
Mentions of friends trying to kill me: 1
Aspersions cast on friends' respective sexualities: 2
Aspersions cast on friends' respective sexualities based on their taste in music: 1
Twitpics/yFrogs: 3
Tweets containing the same picture inadvertently posted twice: 1
Tweets containing hand-drawn "artist's impressions": 1
BAP!s: 1
Tweets in ALL CAPS: 0.75
Tweets attempting to quote Annie Lennox songs and failing: 1
Tweets using the hashtag #drunk: 2
Perfectly spelled tweets: 2
Unnecessary requests for readers to fuck off: 1

Blogs posted: 1
Spelling errors in blog: 0
Blog lucidity: 95%
Mentions of men masturbating on webcams being horrifying and compelling at the same time: 1

Not bad. Could be worse. Let's see a few highlights then, shall we? I hasten to add, these are all ones I sent, not received. Let's start with some text messages:

Typical post-drunken "THANK YOU FOR AN AWESOME NIGHT!" text. Note the time. I'm impressed I managed to somehow insert a web address and misspell my own name. And what "sebsexbexsusecim" means is anyone's guess. It's probably not what you think. Let's do itcagsin sometime.

The top message covers several of the above bases. We have the "I LUV U UR AWESOME" ("I need to ve ariuvs awesome people and you are awesome. :)"). We have errant punctuation ("..23@@") and a whole lot of misspelled words. Then underneath we have a beautifully lucid one, proving that the nonsense was more a product of typing too hastily rather than complete spastication. Also, watch out or o can come koj you.

I wasn't aware my mam was there. Nor do I remember any S&M going on. But it's all right, because I apologies forcant errors. Note that I appeared to have given up attempting to type "Pete" by this point.

Here are the tweets. I think I can let them speak for themselves. Click for a close-up and read from bottom to top.

And I'll leave you with my "artist's impression" of ChatRoulette, drawn using Brushes for iPhone while this very situation was unfolding on the big screen a few metres away from us:

NEXT! NEXT! OH MY GOD! CLICK THE NEXT BUTTON! QUICK!

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#oneaday, Day 110: Hic!

It's nearly 4am and I'm pissed as a fart. This is officially the first #oneaday I've done while under the influence of any sort of substance, so I apologise in advance for any typos or nonsense I am about to produce. I have already tweeted a whole load of shit, so if you're really into the idea of reading drunken bullshit, I suggest you follow me on Twitter.

I went out tonight. I was meeting up with some friends I used to work with and have really been missing recently. Some of them know the details of what has been going on in my personal life recently, others don't. (Incidentally, if you're reading this right now and don't know the details, I'm not quite ready to make it completely public just yet. Give it time.) The best thing about this evening is that my friends know how to have a good time with the minimum of fuss. There were no difficult conversations required, no prerequisites for the fun we were going to have, just an inordinately large amount of alcohol, some frankly fatal-sounding concoctions that I'm almost certain I'm going to regret in a few hours' time and an awful lot of homoerotic dancing.

I apologise profusely to all my friends for fondling their nipples in a distinctly inappropriate manner, but none of you seemed to mind at the time.

Friends are great. I encourage you all to get some. As in some you can go out and see on a regular basis. I absolutely love my online friends and trust them absolutely, but sometimes there is no substitute for being in the same physical place as other people, letting your hair down and acting like a complete twat. There's nothing I'd love more than to do the same with all the members of the Squadron of Shame. One day, perhaps. But for now, a huge shout-out to @dollydaydream, @kslice47, @HarmlessSaucer and @lukejhall for an enormously fun night out involving considerable amounts of drinking and watching ChatRoulette on a big screen.

Seriously, guys, what sort of person are you if you're quite happy to go onto a webcam site and masturbate in front of someone you don't know? Disturbing, but horribly, horribly compelling.

#oneaday, Day 109: Southampton Photowalk

It's election day, but other people have much more fascinating and well-informed opinions on that than me. So instead I'll share what I was doing this evening, which was wandering around Southampton in the company of various local Twitter types, and taking lots of photographs.

It's easy to think of Southampton as a shithole sometimes. But there's lots of interesting stuff around, perhaps most notably the ancient city walls that are scattered around the place. The nice thing about wandering around with photography enthusiasts, though, is that you don't feel quite so self-conscious taking photos of weird things. Like a rusty old padlock. Or the shutter on a shop. Or a particularly interesting piece of grating. Or indeed lying on the floor to get some nice close-ups of dandelions.

It was a fun evening, a chance to hang out with some lovely people and an opportunity to visit some parts of Southampton (well, a pub) that I'd never seen before. For future reference, the Duke of Wellington pub on Bugle Street is very nice. A proper old pub, with wooden floors and beams and everything. Apparently the food's good too.

Anyway, without further ado, here are a selection of unretouched photos.

#oneaday, Day 108: Just Like Marilyn Monroe

I went dancing last night. Yes, you read that correctly. You can blame @Amy_Walker for the bizarre image you undoubtedly have in your head right now. She twisted my arm rather less than I expected she'd have to and I agreed to go along and give it a try.

"It?" I hear you cry. Doubtless you're wondering exactly what kind of wibbling around on the dance floor I was taking part in. Could it be ballet? (No. I don't look good in tights.) Street dance? (No. Largely because the music makes me want to throw dustbins. But also because it looks far too difficult.) Ballroom dancing? (No. I don't grin like an idiot enough.)

Dance in question was Mo'Jive, which is, I believe, short for Modern Jive. (Apostrophes make everything cooler, as everyone knows.) It's actually kind of difficult to describe, but appears to involve lots of holding hands, offering resistance, spinning people around and trying not to accidentally grab anyone's boobs. It appears to be a pretty versatile sort of dance, too, with the music that was played ranging from the very modern to more traditional stuff from the 50s and 60s. It's deceptively energetic, too. Although the moves themselves feel relatively straightforward to perform in terms of the amount of effort involved (if not in the considerable amount of coordination required) by the end of the night I felt like I'd had a decent workout. Obviously not quite the same as lifting weights or anything, but definitely from a cardio perspective, things were happening.

I learned three moves throughout the course of the evening which I believe were called the First Move, Push Spin; the Hatchback; and the Man Spin. The geek in me was delighted that I had genuinely learned a selection of moves that sounded like they'd require some pretty advanced button combinations to pull off. ("Man Spin" is quarter-circle forward followed by punch and kick together, if you're curious.) The social spaz in me was delighted that I didn't make a complete tit of myself in front of lots of different people. And, well, just me was delighted that I was actually doing something I'd never done before and never thought I would do.

Okay. I made mistakes. I kept using the wrong hand halfway through a Man Spin. I occasionally did too many turns in the middle of a First Move, Push Spin. Sometimes I got completely lost and had to start the whole sequence again. But by the end of the night, I was looking surprisingly convincing. Amy even told me earlier today that several friends she knew from the sessions had mentioned how quickly and well I'd picked things up – especially considering I'd never tried it before. She assured me that she wasn't just saying it to make me feel better, too. I think I believe her.

I had a good time. No, a really great time, actually. After recent events, I've found it especially important to get out there and do stuff. Sitting at home being miserable isn't going to achieve anything. So I'm glad I stepped out of my comfort zone for once and pushed myself to do something that I wouldn't normally have even contemplated doing. And more to the point, the results were far from disastrous. It's given me a bit of much-needed confidence, and God knows I need some of that right now.

I'll leave you with this, which has to win the Scary and Hilarious Music Video of the Week award. Gotta love the Right Said Fred. Enjoy.

Post-Script: I hasten to add that the Mo'Jive class Amy and I attended didn't involve any topless bald men, bikini-clad ladies or swimming pools. Or indeed dancing in the style seen in the video. If you're curious about what it's actually all about, check out the Mo'Club here.

#oneaday, Day 107: An Open Letter to Hampshire County Council

Kalvinder Athwal
HR Assistant
Pay and Contract Support Services
Hampshire County Council
3rd Floor, Hampshire House
84-98 Southampton Road
Eastleigh SO50 5PA

Dear Mr Athwal,

Thank you for your letter of 27 April 2010, received today, which coincides beautifully with 1) my birthday, 2) [REDACTED BAD THING], 3) my unemployment and 4) my finances reaching breaking point. You are indeed correct that I left my employment with [REDACTED] on the 19th of March 2010. One would have assumed that one's employers would be in possession of a working payroll department, however, and therefore would have had the good sense to make a note of one's time of departure at the time one gave one's notice.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I receive a letter today informing me that due to the incompetence of someone in your department (this was implied, you unfortunately weren't honest enough to admit it), I have been "overpaid" to the tune of £854.65. That, as I am sure you can appreciate, is quite a lot of money, especially to someone who is not currently in full-time employment. I am sure you are "looking forward" to receiving my payment as you so politely say in your letter, rubbing your greasy hands with glee no doubt, but I am afraid to say that you will be waiting some time for your payment, whether or not you have enclosed an "official" invoice.

You see, Mr Athwal, your department's incompetence does not only stretch to continuing to pay people after they have left their employment – with several months' notice, I might add – but also to failing to issue them a contract of employment in the first place. I joined [REDACTED] in November 2009 and left in March 2010. By my calculations, I was working there for some five months, during which time I asked on a number of occasions when I would be issued with an "official" (there's that word again) contract. Unfortunately, I never received one of these contracts, meaning that I am technically not bound to any of the terms and conditions associated with said non-existent contract. Considering your department is called "Pay and Contract Support Services" and that you have failed to show any degree of competence in either of those areas, I would strongly suggest that the Council saves its money and asks that you all find something else to do with your time. Perhaps they can "overpay" you after your departure too. But – oh no! – with your department closed, who will write the politely worded yet threatening letters regarding "recovering the amount overpaid"?

In the meantime, I enclose a copy of your invoice, which I invite you to take in hand, roll into a tight tube and then jam straight up your arse.

Yours sincerely,

Pete Davison

#oneaday, Day 106: Crystallised Memories

It's funny how certain objects come to have memories attached to them. Inanimate, unremarkable objects. They could be an item of furniture. They could be a book. They could be a piece of technology. They could be a stuffed toy.

Look around the room you're in right now. Look at some of the things that are sitting in it. And not just the big things, or things which are specifically designed to evoke a memory, like photographs.

What memories are attached to, say, the lamp by the side of your bed? Or the clock radio? Or the bookcase? Or the books which lay discarded on the floor? Or that mark on the wall? If you think about it, you can probably attach a memory to every tiny little thing that you can see in any room – assuming you've had the time to "get to know" that room, of course.

When you move on to a new place, sometimes other peoples' memories are left behind. They may take away the things that can be carried, packed into boxes or loaded into a van, but some things can't be taken away. A whole room can hold memories, both good and bad. And it doesn't have to be just one memory at a time. In the room where I am right now I can see things which represent good times, things which represent bad times, and things which represent the very worst of times. Some objects in this room represent more than one thing. Some things hold conflicting emotions. Those things are confusing, but the important thing to remember is that the object holds all of those memories, not just the bad ones.

It's easy to let bad memories and bad experiences colour everything that you do. They say bad experiences and bad memories help to make you stronger. It may well be true, but it doesn't make them any easier to live through, or to relive. But, as received wisdom has it, it's the sum of our experiences that make us who we are. And it's by examining the sum of those experiences that we, ourselves, can learn to understand who we are.

I'm not sure I really know who I am. I've drifted along for so long, wondering if I'm doing the right thing for myself and for other people. I don't feel like I've found it yet, and recent events (which I won't be going into detail about here) have made me think that no, clearly I'm not doing the right thing – for myself, more than anything else. It's a selfish attitude to take, but when it comes down to it, the only person's destiny that you have any control over is your own. You can't always live your life for the approval of other people, least of all if you're not happy yourself.

So that's why when some of these crystallised memories disappear, when some are left behind and some are taken with me to wherever life takes me next, I know that's just another step. There have been missteps, and there have been backwards steps, but they're all steps nonetheless; steps on that long, arduous, exhausting and frankly irritating journey that they call life.

I'm kind of ready to get where I'm supposed to be going now, thanks. I thought I was already there for a while, but there actually seem to be some significant engineering works in the way. Where's the nearest replacement bus service?

#oneaday, Day 105: Under the Hammer - One (1) Self

I've discovered at great, great cost over the years that one should really value oneself more. Because if you don't value yourself, then it's going to be very difficult for other people to do the same, too.

Take me. I don't value myself, even though I know that others do. Because I don't value myself, I don't value my own opinions. I don't think my own opinions are worth listening to. When I post my opinions online in the form of this blog, that's fine. I can put my ideas out there and if people like them, great. If people want to talk about them, great. If people don't like them, that's fine too. If I don't want to deal with a violent disagreement with something I've put (not that I think that's ever happened) I can just hide. I can delete the comment. I can keep out of trouble, in short.

When dealing with people face-to-face, though, it's a different matter. If someone's standing right in front of you and you say something objectionable, there's no hiding. There's no deleting their response. You just have to deal with it. Now, there have only been a couple of times in my life where I've said something and I didn't like what the other person said in response. In all those cases, I know I was the one in the right, but it didn't make it any easier to hear negativity coming from the other party. And that's what makes me afraid to say things sometimes. I start to think that the other person won't want to listen to what I've got to say, that it's not valid somehow, that it's not worth saying. And then I start to think about all the possible responses the other person might come out with. And I assume they're going to come out with the worst possible response. And not wanting to deal with that worst possible response makes me not want to say anything in the first place. It's a vicious cycle that's difficult to break.

Having such a low opinion of yourself is, as you can probably imagine, semi-to-very crippling when it comes to dealing with society at large. Take our Neanderthal friend from the other day, for example. Although I know he's a complete dick for insulting a random stranger, his words cut deep because I was already thinking pretty poorly of myself, and to discover that other people whom I don't know have immediately judged me on the same criteria is just horrible. I was so upset by his remarks that I cut a walk into town short and came straight home.

"Man up," you may say. "Grow a pair." But it's not that simple. It's not about being confident or "masculine" or anything like that. It's about believing in yourself to such a degree that stupid insults can just bounce off you and that you can say whatever you please with confidence, knowing that it's your opinion and while not everyone else may agree with it, you have just as much right to say it as the next person. It's not about arrogance and believing that you're always right. It's about feeling that you are able to say those things without feeling embarrassed or self-conscious. And it's about being able to respond to things that other people say – both positive and negative – without feeling choked inside.

If there's one thing that recent events have taught me, it's that I need to value myself more, and believe that the things I say are worth listening to. It's not easy, though. When you've spent as long thinking as badly of yourself as I have, it's difficult to break that habit.

#oneaday, Day 104: Silence is...

I've been back home visiting my folks for the past couple of days. They read this, so don't be expecting any uncomplimentary remarks, not that I'd do that anyway!

It's been quite some time since I've been home. Even longer since my brother and I were both here. Since he was in the country this weekend, I took the opportunity to catch up with my whole family at once. My immediate family, anyway.

It's always odd coming back to your childhood stomping grounds. There's always something different to how you remember it, whether it's a new housing development that never used to be there, the fact that your childhood home now has double-glazed windows (despite past insistences that would never happen) or the cars across the road being a different colour. Changes are always particularly striking when you've been away for a while.

The biggest change since I grew up here is probably the silence. I don't know if it's the fact the cat is no longer with us, the fact that the aforementioned double-glazing keeps the noise out quite well or simply that there's not been any music on the stereo while I've been here. But I've become so accustomed to living in a relatively noisy environment – living in a city centre, enjoying activities that make noise – that the silence here is strange. It feels like something's missing, like it should be filled with something,

But silence doesn't have to be filled. There's no need for noise all the time. Perhaps John Cage was on to something when he composed 4'33".

Funny where your mind wanders in the silence of the dead of night.

#oneaday, Day 103: Synchronise... Watches!

Anyone who's got friends in other countries, something which has become more and more likely with the rise of online social networking, will know how difficult it is to do things together sometimes. Different time zones, the fact that you're not "just around the corner" from one another – all manner of factors conspire to ensure that arranging a friendly game of Modern Warfare or Fat Princess, let alone anything more adventurous, is tricky business.

So what's the solution? Well, how about if you don't actually have to be online at the same time as each other to play together? It's obviously not quite the same as actually being able to talk smack live to each other, but it's a start. And it's a gaming trend which is growing.

Many iPhone and iPad owners have been enjoying Words with Friends, a Scrabble clone with a different board layout to avoid difficult copyright negotiations. Words with Friends gets this idea of asynchronous multiplayer just right. Play a move and a pop-up push notification is sent to your opponent that it's their turn. They can play their turn whenever is convenient to them. Then the notification is sent back to you. There's also a chat window in game, where messages can be left for the other player. If you want to both stay logged in and play in real-time, there's nothing stopping you doing that. But if, like most people, time is of the essence and you don't have a spare hour for a friendly game, you can spread your game over the course of several days, weeks, months as necessary.

Obviously this works great for turn-based games, but what about genres which are traditionally real-time? Take racing games, for example.

Well, here's a clever solution. The rather literally-titled Async Racing allows players to compete against each other without being logged in at the same time. The way it does this is by recording players' laps around the game's tracks and then using these recorded laps as opponents when someone decides to enter a race. Mario Kart Wii did something similar some time back with its Mario Kart Channel functionality, and it proved rather successful for a while, at least among my friends and I.

Then there's Geometry Wars 2, perhaps the best – and simplest – example of asynchronous multiplayer fun. By posting one of your friends' scores in the upper-right corner of your screen at all times during gameplay, you're always competing against someone else. Assuming you actually have some friends, of course.

While asynchronous multiplayer is never going to completely take the place of simultaneous play complete with all the trash-talking that entails, it's certainly an attractive alternative for those who are either short on time or friends in the same time zone. It'll be interesting to see how – or indeed if – it will translate to other genres.

One possibility is for it to use the behavioural analysis that Halo: Reach is supposedly going to pioneer for its matchmaking. Imagine being able to party up with an AI team in something like World of Warcraft made up of your friends' personalities, or have a game of Call of Duty against bots based on behavioural analysis of your buddies. Sure, it's not a patch on actually being there with your friends, but we've established that isn't always an option for some people.

Games are more fun with friends, whether they can be there with you or not. New opportunities to "play" with people you wouldn't normally get to should be embraced. Asynchronous play is going to be a big part of the future of gaming, and it'll be interesting to see who gets it right first.

#oneaday, Day 102: Many Happy Returns

As you get older, some things become less and less sacred.

You realise the Tooth Fairy isn't real when you catch one of your parents sneaking in to collect the tooth and drop off 20p. (It was the 80s. Kids in the class I used to teach get a quid now. Inflation at work!)

You realise Santa isn't real. (I don't remember how this happened.)

You realise the Easter Bunny isn't real.

You start to care less about "big" annual events like Christmas and Easter. Especially given that the shops start selling crap for each of them earlier and earlier each year.

In short, things start to matter less. But for me, one thing which will always be absolutely sacrosanct is one's birthday. Your birthday is a day when you should be immune to all harm, be it physical or mental. Of course, in reality it's a day just like any other, but to me, something always feels special about my birthday, and I always respect this feeling towards other people too. I feel particularly sorry for people who have bad things happen to them on their birthdays. I'd feel sorry for them anyway, but to me, having something terrible happen on your birthday just seems like kicking someone when they're down.

I'm also firmly in favour of people not having to work on their birthdays. Like a personal Bank Holiday, if you will. It's your day, it should be yours to do with as you please.

But unfortunately, the world doesn't quite work like that. Other people don't care that you're a year older. In fact, most people don't even know that you're a year older, as one of the things that ceases to happen as you get older is the wearing of badges to helpfully inform those around you that "I AM 6". And so when something doesn't go your way on your birthday it feels like an enormous injustice has taken place.

Fortunately, that hasn't happened today. It's been a pretty quiet one for me. I wrote a few articles, drank some coffee, ate some cake and then went to see some friends and try out new board game Mystery Express, a Murder on the Orient Express-style deduction game. We didn't get time to finish the whole game before some people had to leave and head bedwards (the perils of having a regular day job) but we got a good grasp of the rules and it seems like an interesting game. I'm looking forward to giving it a proper try sometime when we have a bit more time to spare.

So, I'm 29. So far it doesn't feel that different. I wonder if next year will feel different. 30 feels like it should be some sort of milestone, but at the moment I feel rather like I'm drifting and haven't found my true path yet. Well, as it stands, I have 364 days left to get that sorted. That's doable, right?