1266: Hotness

It’s still massively warm, but at least our Internet is back. (It came back briefly shortly after I wrote last night’s post, actually, but by then it was too late.)

Our flat is like a fricking oven at the moment. All the hot air in the whole building rises, making our place on the top floor unbearably warm, even with all the windows open and fans running. You can feel it as you come up the stairs; pass by our first floor neighbours and ascend the stairs to the second floor (third if you’re American) and you can feel yourself pass through a wall of heat. It’s really quite unpleasant.

It’s times like this that I wish air conditioning — or indeed any form of cooling — was more commonplace here in the UK. Heating is fine — the heaters in our flat are great when it’s cold — but when it gets too warm? There’s really very little that you can do save for sit around in your pants and drink lots of cold drinks. We have been plying the poor rats with bowls of iced water, which they seem to appreciate; Lara, our slightly older rat, particularly seems to be suffering somewhat in the heat. Poor girl.

I’m heading down to Brighton tomorrow to work in the Eurogamer office for a change. It’s nice to have the option to work in an actual office with other people — this is something I’ve not had the luxury of doing in previous games writing gigs, so I intend to take advantage of it every so often, if only to break the monotony of working from home. (Also, hopefully the EG offices have air conditioning, which will save me gasping for breath in this oven of a flat. Also, I owe Chris Donlan a sandwich.)

One thing I’m actually quite looking forward to about the trip to Brighton is having a commute where I don’t have to drive. Finally — finally — I have a commute long enough to play some handheld games on. There will be some Animal Crossing, Velocity Ultra and possibly some Persona 4.

For now, though, there will be a large glass of something cold and wet in an attempt to cool off a bit, then sleep. Or, alternatively and more likely, very little sleep and instead a lot of sweaty tossing and turning as I attempt to get comfortable in an environment which is not in the slightest bit comfortable.

Moan moan moan, I know. At least Andy Murray won the tennis earlier. Supposedly that’s important or something.

#oneaday Day 831: Another Year

So, as of the time of writing, I’ve just turned thirty-one years old. As becomes increasingly common as the years pass by, it doesn’t feel any different to being thirty.

I was mostly prepped for the supposed horror of turning thirty by my parents. My father in particular apparently didn’t take to turning thirty all that well, so I was expecting a semi-to-fully traumatic experience. It actually turned out to be a rather pleasant experience, as I was whisked off on a weekend to London by my girlfriend Andie, and then had the chance to see a bunch of friends for curry and good times.

A lot has happened in the space of the last year. Having been forced to move back home with my parents due to my shattered personal life from the year prior, in August I moved back out again. At the time I was working for GamePro and was earning a decent wage from it, too, so Andie (who was also living with her mother at the time) and I decided that we were both in a situation where we could get a house and move in together. So we did. And that was good.

Since that time, GamePro collapsed — in December of last year, to be specific. I was very sad about this, as I felt I’d found my “calling” — I did a great job of posting the daily news there, and my hard work was appreciated by the people I was working for. I was grateful for the opportunity, grateful to be accepted and appreciated in what I was doing, and grateful to, for the first time in my life, have a job that I actually enjoyed.

I was half-expecting the collapse of GamePro to signal another disastrous collapse in my own personal circumstances. At the time, I didn’t have enough money saved up to survive for very long and still be able to pay my tax bill at the beginning of next year. I started frantically applying for jobs and finding the same situation I had done prior to starting at GamePro — no-one was interested in me. I don’t know whether it was my lack of “relevant” qualifications for certain sectors, my wide-ranging experience that covered both teaching and writing positions, or something else. Whatever it was, it carried a significant risk of making me feel like absolute crap again.

Fortunately, I found myself with a new job before long, and I’m enjoying it. I’m constantly learning new stuff, too, which is a big bonus. My writing may not be quite so much in the “mainstream” public eye any more, but I’m find with that; it means that I have to deal with far fewer hormonal teenagers who can’t spell, punctuate or formulate an argument. I also haven’t had any accusations of being a paedophile since starting my new job, either, which is always nice.

What else? I’ve bought a new computer, bought an Android tablet, discovered My Little Pony, played all three of the “Operation Rainfall” role-playing games on the Wii, finally started playing Nier, started a few creative projects, started, stopped, started, stopped and started again at the gym lots of times… the list goes on. When put that way, it probably doesn’t sound all that interesting, really. But I can’t say it’s been a shitty year, unlike certain previous years I could mention. On the whole, it’s been a reasonably good year and hopefully things will just continue to improve.

Now it’s time to go to bed. I’ve had friends over playing TrackMania, Dungeon Defenders, 7 Wonders and Catan this evening, with more arriving tomorrow for further board game fun and frolics.

See you on my “proper” birthday.

#oneaday, Day 252: 5 Social Norms That Need To Die The Hell Out

There are some things which have become so firmly entrenched in normal society that we just don’t question them. We don’t necessarily like them, but we certainly don’t question them if someone happens to bring them up. They’re so well-known that countless comedy routines have drawn attention to them over the years; so much so that many of them are now clichés. That doesn’t stop people writing about them and perpetuating said clichés, though, as I’m about to do right now.

So without further ado, let me present Five Inexplicable Social Norms that the World can Really Do Without™.

The toilet seat thing

Alluded to above. Roughly 50% of the world’s population, give or take, have to take a piss standing up. Well, they don’t have to. But gentlemen who choose to urinate whilst in a seated position are generally scorned and looked upon as some sort of weirdo. For a chap, sitting is for pooing and standing is for pissing. Would the ladies out there who whinge about toilet seats being left up prefer it if said gentlemen just left it down all the time and pissed all over it instead? No? Then consider this: the seat has a hinge on it so it can be lifted up and put down. If it is in the incorrect position for one’s desired toilet activity, one need simply use one’s hand to move said seat to the correct position.

While we’re on, those toilets whose seats don’t stay up can die in a fire. Having to hold on to the toilet seat with one hand and directing one’s flow with the other often feels rather precarious and I feel that anyone who inadvertently spills in a place they shouldn’t whilst under such arduous pissing conditions should not be held responsible.

Man flu

Apparently, guys aren’t allowed to get ill any more. Whether it’s a tickly cough, some form of debilitating brain cancer, ebola or itchy scrot, it seems that everyone is quick to cry “Man flu!” at the first opportunity. The zombie apocalypse will not come from some sort of biohazard outbreak at a local lab. No, it will come from the man who caught zombie disease, went to hospital, was accused of just having “man flu” and sent on his way.

Overenthusiastic use of the word “random”

“OMG! I’m such a random person really. We went out and had a drink and it was like OMG! Random!”

No. “Random” means… well… random. Completely by chance. Out of all the possibilities that are there, everything has an equal possibility of happening. It is not “random” that you met that hot girl at The Dungeon one night, because you knew she was there. Your night out was not “so random”, because you’d planned it weeks in advance with your compadres. You are not a “random” person, because otherwise your conversations would run something along the lines of “Cabbage! 352! Cocks. Horatio! England. Belching squirrel. 976!”

Settling for second-best

This could be applied to so, so many things but I’d like to particularly refer to the world of employment. How many people do you (yes, you!) know personally who regularly bitch and moan about their job, their colleagues, how much they hate what they’re doing, how they “wish” they could do something “better” and then never do a damn thing about it? Some people don’t have a clue what it is what they want to do. To those people I say: think harder. If you are sitting in an office surrounded by other people who clearly want to slit their wrists or take far more regular toilet breaks than a normal person because they’re actually going there to cry for five minutes at a time, then you are probably in The Wrong Job.

Being unemployed has been a festival of suckitude, but I just know that if I was in that aforementioned office, while money might be coming in the way I’d be feeling would be ten times worse, because I’d feel trapped and unable to pursue the things I really do want to do. (Talking of which, I have a job interview for a job I really do want tomorrow. Wish me luck.)

Embarrassment over bettering oneself

I went out for a run today, but felt the familiar pang of anyone who is unfit going out in public to exercise: “what if anyone sees me?” This immediately jumps up to something doubly worthy of panic if you are doing some form of exercise which has the potential to hold up traffic, such as cycling along country lanes. But running! People will see you doing exercise, and they will laugh at you. Because going out and doing something about your own fitness is inexplicably somehow more shameful than just walking down the street gasping and wheezing after climbing a flight of five steps.

This whole thing also seems to apply to kids in school, many of whom seem to see success as being somehow shameful. But that, of course, is a topic I have waxed upon at great detail many times in the past.

So I know I certainly wouldn’t shed any tears if any of the above norms disappeared overnight. Perhaps they’re uniquely British things. In which case… anyone want to help me get a visa?