Create your own Haka (ish)

The Poms reaction to Kapa O Pango (the new All Black Haka) was suitably hysterical. It seems our colonial masters don't mind muskets and creating Empires through military compulsion - but a throat slitting gesture in a ceremonial dance is completely beyond the pale!

But just to prove that they do have a sense of humour - they have produced a site where you can create your own Haka (or 'Laka' as they call it) using Lions players! Those of you with tedious jobs, click on this link for some harmless fun!

And you wonder why there a f*&k all male teachers

I know this would have been plastered all over the news back home - but I can not let this go without comment. From The Herald:

Air New Zealand and Qantas have banned men from sitting next to unaccompanied children on flights, sparking accusations of discrimination.

The airlines have come under fire for the policy that critics say is political correctness gone mad after a man revealed he was ordered to change seats during a Qantas flight because he was sitting next to a young boy travelling alone.

I seriously can not believe it. Without being too melodramatic, this is one of the reasons I left home.

I put it in the same category of the 'cultural cringe' and angst that seems to pervade NZ at the moment. Is it a result of being so young? So small? So isolated? I have no idea - but god it grates. DPF sums it up nicely (and he don't swear often!):

But nevertheless how fucking offensive, and yes I mean fucking. Think if Air NZ banned Muslims from sitting within the front ten rows of a plane, just to protect the pilots? I mean after all it is true that just as a man is more likely to be a paedophile, a Muslim is more likely to be a terrorist? Never mind that 99.xxx% of men are not paedophiles just as much the same percentage of Muslims are not terrorist?

When the wet blanket that is ex Children's Commissioner Roger McLay comes out and says that this has gone too far - you know it is off the planet.

Prizes!

Mum has been asking me what I want for my B-Day prize, and to be honest, I have been coming up pretty much empty on the ideas front.

Today - problem solved. I was sitting in a meeting and felt the need to fiddle. A man should not fiddle in meetings - it is rude to say the least. So I decided to chew studiously on my glasses. Things were going well, I had managed to satisfy the fiddling requirement and was pulling off a look of genuine interest and reflection.

Until I dislodged, and proceeded to choke on a small piece of the bifocals in question. Bastard things! It was as embarrassing at the time as the buggers are uncomfortable now!

So - in short - glasses would be lovely family ;-)

The weekend

We left early (very early) on Friday morning and headed up to fly out from Luton. Easy Jet were great (no seat allocation for all budget flights is a great idea - just roll on up and get on the plane, please sir). Literally as e arrived the snow came and turned the city white - it was stunning.

Then it was off to check into the hotels - job done - pub time. Then lunchtime at the pub. Then it was time for the lads to head to the pub as the girls went off to spend my cash on a jacket and some shoes. After a very successful shopping mission the girls returned and we went to a pub. Scotland has a lot of pubs - but Mark and I were determined not to let this voyage turn into a lads boozy weekend at the pub.

So we went to the Casino. A few nightclubs later and it was home time, well and truly - but not before a burger and rant about the rugby with some of the friendly locals. I got back to the hotel and managed to fall asleep with the heater on. Saturday morning was as bad as I had felt for quite some time! I hate that hangover and headache - dehydrated to hell with a pounding headache - nice.

Saturday was all about the Rugby. Murrayfield as superb, the weather better - the NZ support - crap!! Why are we so bloody subdued at the rugby? The game wasn't the greatest - granted - but for if we are not going to make some noise about a Grand Slam - we really are a sad bunch. Having said that - it was fantastic to be there and witness history, when people are looking back in 20 years they won't remember the game (or the plank wearing ten for Scotland who needs his right foot cut off!) - just the score, and I was there!

Saturday night we had a great Thai kai and went to Jongleurs Comedy Club - it was absolutely perfect. Kick back with a few drinks at a roomy table in a nice hall and watch some seriously funny people doing their thing - quality.

And when Kiwi comedian Benjamin Crellin gets home and performs - go and see him - I can't remember laughing harder. A few nightclubs and a ferrel bouncer later and it was home time and the end of a classic weekend. There will be more of the same next year that is for certain.

It was also cool to confirm the rumour that the Scots are some of the friendliest and funniest people on the planet.

I'm still very, very tired am going to bed - but there will be a big catch up on emails tomorrow night to sort things for NZ! Weird to think that there is only a week before I get home - ship it in!

Will post Shannon's photo's when I get them.

Snow in Scotland

What a fantastic weekend! Fun and games in Scotland with Mark, K and Shannon - but ye gods it was freezing - literally. Then the wet freezy bits started falling from the sky! Here we are just after landing and minutes before the snow started.

Fun and games, booze and food, not to mention seeing the 'Grand Slam'!

Full update to follow...

Apologies

A quick note to all that have emailed lately and not had a reply - sorry!! I have been nuts planning for December work wise and what I am actually doing when I am at home! Can't wait - seriously can't wait. And need the break...

Speaking of being busy - best I go pack - off to Scotland tomorrow to watch the All Blacks win a Grand Slam.

MJD - permission to be jealous granted.

This is all bad taste

K and I had a late one a work tonight and stopped in for a quick wine in Camden before heading home. This gave one of the local vagrants time to get a few under and accost us on the way out the door.

This was no bad thing - the guy was an old Irishman - and he was absolutely hilarious! He strolled up as quietly as you please and said, 'excuse me sir' and before I could say, 'nup', he was into his routine. We were rolling about the place within 30 seconds. And as subtely as you like he slipped in the odd 'I am raising funds for a burger this evening, you've been lovely, did you here the one....' This guy was quality and he didn't drop a line - he also got away with laughing at his own jokes in a way that I thought no one but Billy Connelly could (he was genuinely enjoying himself).

I can't remember many of his lines - but have plucked out a few:

A man walks into a Muslim lap dancing clubs, has a few drinks and shouts out - 'show us your face!'

George Best is gravely ill in hospital - his doctor comes up to him and says, 'George I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that you only have an hour to live, the good news is that it is happy hour'.

What did Gods text message to Osama Bin Ldaen say after the tsunami? 'Beat that ya f*&ker!'

Did you hear about the Scottish peadophile? He went up to some kids playing in the street and asked 'would you like to buy some sweets?'

And it just went on, damn he was funny. Luckily thanks to an email from Bridge I was able to fire one back at him:

So, I went to a Muslim kids birthday party the pther day.

Fastest game of pass the parcel I have ever seen.

Pub Quiz Ignominy

I had dinner and drinks with Mands and K and a few others at Chez Albert last night - right nice - and I hadn't seen Mands for ages, so it was very cool to catch up. All was going swimmingly until the evenings entertainment got underway.

I am not really the overly competitive type, in fact, strike that - yes I am! I would sooner not play than come second. In fact I can only think of one circumstance where one is encouraged to come second... Suffice it to say - I hate losing. It was pub quiz time.

I was rolling along nicely, I never cared much for geography, but outside of that I was laughing. "Section five - Sports Trivia." Sleeves rolled up, fixed concentration penetrating the smugness that was slapped all over my chevy chase - bring it on! Then disaster struck:

Q: 'Name the England footballer that retired in 1990 after 125 consecutive caps?'

Frit: "Um, not Bryan Robson - bingo - it's Peter Shilton" - followed by various cries of 'how the hell do you know that?' (At this stage I was thinking sod 'fixed concentration' - I look better wearing 'smug'!)

Next Q: 'Name the New Zealand sporting captain that was knighted that same year?'

Frit: "Paddles - had to be, no wait, hang on, was he the captain? Glenn Turner was the captain around then... no it must be him. Wait! The bastards! It's a trick question - it's Sir Brian Lachore!"

Um, wrong...

Sir Brian Lachore!?!?!?!? For the love of Christchurch! Frit - you're a dick. A trick question about a NZ sporting captain in a British pub quiz - yup - that sounds plausible!? Frit, you really are a prize winning dick!

We lost by half a point - f*&k it!

There is no such thing as a god damn 'baby name'.

Reading the Metro this morning tipped off something that has long been an irritant - people selecting stupidily 'cute' and 'hip' baby names for their unfortunate offspring, forgetting that the poor little bugger will end up on the wrong end of a boarding school toweling just minutes after the first role call.

This mornings couple had called their son 'cool', now that may be wicked, grouse and funky - a little bit edgy and now - you know, just a bit zanny and out there!

No you pricks - it's a lifetime of feeling a right tit everytime he's introduced. A sure fire way to get beaten up daily. And the reason this 'about to be ostracised as soon as he reaches speaking age criminal in waiting' is going to resent your stupid arses!

I had always thought that a name was a long term requirement - one that sticks with you for the duration of your tenure here on Earth, not a pissy little label for a giggling ball for the few months that it seems like a good idea? Just as well little Staunch won't have the same problems when I manage to find my incubator bride!

Traitor!

Even I am impressed at the speed that Winston is turning our 'new constitutional arrangements' into a very public train wreck. God I can't wait for him to get into the house for a Question Time grilling.

And just to prove that he is completely losing it, he is accusing the Herald of TREASON with an majesticly straight face. A stretch Winston, even for you...

In a speech yesterday at his Party's annual conference Foreign Minister Winston Peters accused the New Zealand Herald of Treason. This morning he repeated the allegations on National Radio's Morning report adding that the alleged treasonous conduct had been by a "Herald columnist". It is clear the columnist in question is Fran O'Sullivan.

Fantastic - a Senior Minister at war with the countries biggest rag!

Helen got her 'historic third term' - that was all that mattered post election - but I fear that political expedency will ultimately ruin her legacy. She could very easily turn into the woman who presided over a Government that implodes very publicly within 12 months.

Count down

I survived the football yesterday, aided by a Newcastle display that ensured I would have no emotions to suppress, thanks lads. I could not believe how hostile the crowd was - the worst side of every person was on display. To say I kept a low profile is belittling understatement.

Self preservation was paramount. I was quite literally in hostile territory and haing to play the game. I have no doubt that if people had found out I was a Geordie, I would have been begging the Police to escort me out. But bar the result - it was another enjoyable premiership experience. It is still weird to reflect on how I used to get up at 3am to watch these games, and could not even dream of actually being there. But I am here - brilliant.

That said, I am officially counting down the days until I come home. I had an email today from Mum which really bedded in that feeling - no real news to speak of, just another welcome bit of 'contact' from home.

Dunc (bro in law) is due home after six months as I type and is going to get off the plane to the sight of his two little angle'ette's and a wife that has lost 25 kg's! Not a bad coming home prize, well done Nickster! I'm so proud of you and can't wait to see you!

As much as I can't wait to get home, I can happily report that I am loving London more than ever. A bit of a bender last night with a whole crew of new faces left me more or less good for nothing today. So I went for a wander to pick up my bag from The Albert. Cold as hell, wandering through Regents Park, just drifting. Nice.

Bob the Builder

Bob Clarkson beat Winston in Tuaranga, all the while refusing to go head to head with him in public debates. I don't know why he was so backward in coming forwards - the guy is bloody funny by the sounds of things. His maiden speech to Parliament is here and is well worth a read, the money quote has to be:

When I was 30 I got married. I was married for 11 years. I have two lovely daughters Caprice and Megan. After 11 years I asked my wife what she wanted for Christmas and she said a divorce. I said I wasn’t thinking of something quite so expensive.

On a slightly more serious note, he is a self made millionaire and good old fashioned bloke and will make a refreshingly non-academic contribution to policy making (given the chance). Bob the builder on housing:

I want State house tenants to be given the option to buy the house they occupy. The money recovered from these sales can build more houses for people who need them. For example young married couples.

I see 6000 affordable houses a year being built and sold by state housing. This will solve the housing problem faced by young people today. It will cost the government nothing. It will save taxpayers the high cost of running state houses.

Sounds like good sense to me - at least worthy of consideration.

But if he acheives nothing else - I will always like him - he beat Winston!

I gave it six months, me thinks I over shot.

A headline from Stuff today:

Irritated by questions on his role in the Government, Foreign Minister Winston Peters walked out of his first press conference in a different country in the new role.

Nice one Winnie - clocks ticking.

Astrological Help

Today was really the first time that Kathryn and I had to have a fairly 'direct' discussion about the pro's and con's to various aspects of a database solution we are developing for one of our acquisitions. The details are irrelevant - but suffice it to say that we had some differing views (or 'we were coming at it from different angles' - I can't believe I pulled that out in my most placating [condescending if we're being honest - Ed] voice.

We got through that alright and proceeded to take the company through our proposal - united. We were working as a team and doing things my way.

So then on the tube on the way home I was wondering whether or not K was quietly pissed off with me. Diversion I thought! I pulled out the Metro - "Read our horoscopes" said she. She be Leo, me be Sag - away I went. So here are the Metro horoscopes for the 16th November 2005:

Leo

Inventing an Easter egg in the shape of a Christmas tree that can double as a firework may capture a few markets but is it a plan? Get real, get the deal.

Damn! Not even I would be that harsh (although if I had thought of the 'an Easter egg in the shape of a Christmas tree' line - I would have had to use it)! Surely it couldn't get any worse. Best I move swiftly onto reading mine and hope she doesn't pick up the all too unsubtle nuisance of her mystical message.

Sagittarius

Being in no doubt about what you want from a working situation is a good thing. Now all you have to do is convince someone else to back your plans.

Ah hah, now that didn't really help. At all! So a message to all you transcendental know it all types; a little tact, to make up for my lack of it, would be nice.

Home and away - literally

One day I will watch a live Premier League game and be able to celebrate a goal without fear of a blade between the shoulders! But not this weekend.

The good news is that I am going to Stamford Bridge to watch Chelsea at home to Newcastle. The bad news is that I am in the f*&king home end! One day I'll be with my kind off people!

There's no fearing the cold....

...when you have access to the interweb and this sort of visionary science. The headline of the day:

Scientists say chills could cause colds

Posted at 9:15pm on 15 Nov 2005

British scientists say the common cold may be brought on by being chilly, despite medical orthodoxy that there is no connection between developing the viral infection and a drop in body temperature.

Researchers at Cardiff University's Common Cold Centre paid 90 students to sit for 20 minutes with their bare feet in buckets of cold water.

A few days later 13 of the students reported cold symptoms, such as a runny nose or sore throat.

Centre director Professor Ron Eccles says when dipping feet into cold water, causes a pronounced constriction to the blood vessels in the nose, which aids the virus.

Copyright © 2005 Radio New Zealand

Brilliant! And vindication for those sage mothers that have for years been telling their young boys that spending prolonged periods in icy water will do more than shrink their.....

Holy orangutans Batman - it's brass monkeys!

Monday's predominant weather is forecast to be sunny.

9°C
5°C

Tuesday's predominant weather is forecast to be Sunny intervals.

11°C
2°C

Wednesday's predominant weather is forecast to be sunny.

8°C
3°C

Thursday's predominant weather is forecast to be sunny.

9°C
1°C

Friday's predominant weather is forecast to be sunny.

8°C
-2°C

I will take more than minus two to have me reaching for the wooly mits! I fear being as hard as nails over here will result in me being as stiff as one.

Sorted - finally!

When it comes to organising things - I am not good. When it comes to avoiding things that I really need to organise, I am a past master. Which is why it is a great relief to have finally tidied up the last outstanding 'logistic' in terms of my trip home!

Mum - Wanganui - Auckland flight sorted! For a cool $255NZ - bastards! Procrastination is not cheap.

Big Brother (and not the sodding 'TV show')

You don't have to go far over here to find people vehemently opposed to the proposed ID Card scheme that Tony Blair is pushing. All the usual suspects are rushing out with their rather insipid civil liberties arguments. "Big brother", "state control" is the earnest battle cry - as soon as there is enough publicity on offer to warrant the vocal investment. This is not much of a story in of itself really.

But for the record - indifference would sum up my position to the whole scheme. I don't mind being able to prove who I am, anyone that does might like to ask themselves 'why?’ However, a return to the WWII style demanding of 'papers' doesn't hold much appeal. For me, more than anything else, if it is going to be bureaucratic poster child for administrative dissipation - then I'm not so keen! All that is by the by.

An article in the Metro got me thinking recently. I think the people busy objecting to ID Cards have completely overlooked something, and that something is looking at directly at them! Forget ID Cards, if your afraid of Big Brother in London, then CCTV is what you should have in your sights! Honestly, chances are that you are starring in an unscripted, Truman Show like, civic stage half the time you are outdoors.

On a bus? Smile and look up! In a gas station? Don't worry about your best side, 'they've' got them all covered! Walking down the street? Gotcha! Reading quietly in the library? You're still on stage - just kinda miming. It's unreal - the amount of footage the retrieved from the July 7 bombers demonstrated 2 things rather starkly - why CCTV exists, and how incredibly (alarmingly) comprehensive it is.

So, if you're at the local dairy buying a bottle of detergent having just killed your girlfriend - apart from being a vile, irredeemable fragment of a man, you are also about to get your comeuppance. Courtesy of a three week old tape in a corner store. And good bloody job too. This prick had denied the murder and then gone on telly appealing for his girlfriends return (how people can bring themselves to do that - I can not comprehend). Then this,

The truth was that three days earlier he had killed her. And over the next few days his story began to unravel as police searched the house he shared with Miss Nelson in Hotham Road North, Hull.

He had been caught on CCTV at his corner shop buying bin bags and cleaning products the day before he reported his girlfriend missing.

CCTV picture of Paul Dyson in shop
On Sunday 13 February Dyson bought bin bags in his local shop

The police arrested Dyson, aged 30, and after two days he confessed to killing her. On Monday he pleaded guilty in court to her murder.

That to me is a fairly solid case for CCTV's existance, but my question to the ID Card protesters is - what disturbs you more; a card in your pocket? Or 'The Bill' being able to see which pocket you are keeping it in?

When too busy to blog - never be afraid to filch! Shamelessly lifted from St Molesworth is this weeks top ten.

Top 10 priorities for the new minister of foreign affairs
1. Call Paul Holmes to get a list of his best darkie jokes.

2. Ensure all his DPS officers are under five-foot-two.

3. Revive ANZUS relations through new sporting initiatives - like an Australia/US/New Zealand Poker Tri Series.

4. Demand that he be introduced at functions as "Foreign Minister of New Zealand but not a member of the Government".

5. Support application of British American Tobacco to become a member of the UN.

6. Remove biggest barrier to lasting peace in the Middle East - that pesky Islamic liquor ban.

7. Sign free suit trade agreement with Italy.

8. Slip "scotch" and "cigarettes" into the revised UN Declaration of Human Rights.

9. Accuse Kim Il-Jong of being a "one man personality cult" without laughing.

10. Force MFAT to put out an advisory against all non-essential travel to Tauranga.

Dinner with Di

The pic below is from a couple of weeks ago when I caught up with Di for kai. She was on top form! Another ex-Hudson'er, Maree is on Di's other wing.

Welcome to the mad house K!

Yes, welcome to the world where someone asks you, ‘so where are you on Wednesday?’ - and you genuinely can’t say without checking.

Where you have the third meeting of the day (typically before lunch) and half of the people in the room were in the first 2 meetings. You look at each other and say ‘so what is this one about?’ That one always results in some quality looks from the other half of the room (vendors and ‘internal clients’ etc) - ’the look’ screaming; ‘do these people know WTF they are doing?’

My personal favourite is immediately after a complete U turn, calmly stating, ’I realise this sounds like the polar opposite of what we initially proposed - but you must understand we had this in mind all along - we are simply couching it in different terms’.

It is week 2 with Kathryn on board at work and I think she is starting to get an appreciation for the ‘nature of the current environment’ - and I get the feeling she is enjoying it. The surprising thing is that for a control freak, routine worshipping, fully paid up member of the obsessive/compulsive club - I love it too.

Fun times.

Kathryn, if I may be so forward as to offer one piece of advice. Get to know the madness, be at one with the madness, embrace the madness. And above all - vizbooks tai havanell.

Very tired…

More blah than blog #2

I don’t know what it is - but I have been feeling a bit weird about New Zealand lately. I hope to God it is not some sort of ‘I’m overseas in the big league looking back at my little Island home’ superiority complex - I’m sure it’s not. But I have just been thinking about where I am at, what I am doing and what matters to me.

I have relaxed the ‘money above all things’ philosophy - but the truth is - I like nice things, nice things cost money. There is no way I could match the opportunity that I have here if I was back home. I was presented with a massive opportunity when I started and it came with good coin. My perm contract comes with even more opportunity and a 21% pay rise. That makes the prospect of returning home and looking for work a little bit daunting – I just don’t think I could match what I have here. I don’t think I will be home for good until I am in a position to start up my consultancy - plans for that, whilst embryonic, are certainly more solid than many of my previous ‘grand ideas’!

Then there’s the access to ‘life experiences’ that come with being in Europe. I am hugely frustrated that I have experienced precious little of it to date - but that will change (promise Mum!) - in fact I am organising a five day tour through Turkey to do with Boy for Anzac Day next year at the moment. When Di Rielly was over here - she said that it was like living on a Monopoly Board - which is as good a description as I have heard. It is no longer consistently surreal, but having the Queen living down the street still beats walking down Queen Street!

Then there’s the independence and freedom of being anonymous. I am a creature of habit, I don’t need company often and I am perfectly happy to go about my business and let others do likewise. In this respect - London was made for me. There is nothing I like more than heading down to Camden on a Sunday afternoon, popping into Mr Topper’s for the 6 quid ‘number none’ shearing and then slipping into NW1 (sports bar) to watch a Newcastle game. There are always a few lads at the bar ready to proffer their various opinions - but then I am just left to watch my footy. Bliss (when you support Newcastle, you learn to just enjoy the game and not let yourself get upset about the result - well for no more than a few days at least).

There is no end of good looking girls over here, and no shortage of people trying to set me up with them. But to be honest - I just don’t have time at the moment (I can hear the collective groans all the way from here family!) - but that is the truth for now. I am not into the ‘occasional dating’ thing and I have plenty of people that I struggle to catch up with in my spare time already. The prospect of doing the ‘awkward first meeting’; worried about real meetings the next day does not appeal. That said, there is one ‘chick’ I have met and gotten to know over here who meets all the key criteria, so watch this space.

Then I read the news from back home and see things like Wayne Mapp being given the position of ‘PC eradication spokesmanship’. Dear God – it all seems so facile from a distance (I’m sure it seems equally facile when you are back home – but you know what I mean). MJD said to me recently that ‘it sounds like they are making it hard for you to leave London’. They are. But checking out the news from back home makes it equally hard to come back.

I have always liked the English side of my heritage, the security that comes with connecting with something so established. Now that I am immersed in that history and tradition – it highlights the ‘cultural cringe’ undercurrent that permeates NZ. The fact that Waitangi Day feels like taking a sickie from work is case in point. You get the day off – but don’t really feel inclined to celebrate. We spend God knows how much money on fireworks to celebrate a failed plot in another country (Guy Fawkes Day) – yet hold our collective breaths to see the best headline protest on our ‘National Day’. Average.

Mum – before you read this and worry about me disappearing for good – relax. I’m sure the brain dump above is ‘part of a phase’ [Mate, I had hoped you were over explaining things away as ‘phases’ – Ed], and I still can’t imagine bringing my kids up anywhere but in NZ. NZ is still home and always will be – besides – I miss you buggers too much to stay here for good.

But just for now, I am a ‘dual citizen’, and happily in touch with 'the second me'.

Dark

Here I am at 4.30pm on a Sunday afternoon having wistfully wasted the day away (more accurately, half the day) and it is dark - night time like. I don’t mind the dark to be honest - I quite like ‘hunkering down’ on a Sunday evening, But I will be interested to see if it starts getting me down over time (as many people have promised me it will).

I had my first big sleep since starting work today. 1pm out of bed, couple of coffees, shower and then out the door. Bus up to Swiss Cottage - poke around a bookshop or two, step outside, and bugger me - it’s dark.

I’m optimistic that the London gloom won’t get me down - but realistically so. I have always associated darkness with night time - I think I have to recalibrate my thinking for these parts.

Go the Blacks

Quarter to 4 here and just about to settle down for the AB's v Wales. The build up has been great (but will they ever let the Hayden incident go? The answer is a resounding 'no') and the Welsh really reckon themselves a chance - it should be a cracking game.

I am picking the Blacks by 5 at half time, 18 at full time.

Put this down as another one of those statements that could come back to bite me!

Now that's commitment

My boss and I have just sent an email re a development project that we are about to kick off with the following phrases:

'...possible solutions..'
'...defined the issue a little more clearly...'
'...beginning to formulate a possible solution.'
'...improve the chances of delivery of at least an interim solution.'
'...that this still probably means at least three months...'
'We both thinkk that development is probably the best way to go...'
'..., will almost certainly require...'
'...this could be built...'

And these were not plucked out of a lengthy document - this was a dozen line email! Get the feeling we are almost certainly, probably definitely, absolutely potentially covering our arses in the unlikely but increasingly possible (to the point of near certainty) event of a cock up?

Boy interrupted

The only problem with having a ruthlessly regimented morning routine is that even the slightest outside influence can throw you completely. Having wrestled the routine back to a steady 24 minutes, my mornings have been calm affairs lately.

This morning - turmoil. I woke to the sound of the bathroom door closing. What was this? Surely not - Buzz - at this hour? Can't be? Must be, shit, it is. What to do now?

There seemed to be two options, stay in bed until Buzz was clear of the bathroom and apply the accepted morning methodology then OR get up and improvise. When you have as much confidence in your ability to break 25 minutes in the morning as I do - you don't leave any time in the budget. So - option one was out, I had to improvise to make up this contingent lost ground.

What a disaster. Things that were supposed to help - didn't. I put the boxers, socks, belt and cuff links out on the bed, made and poured the coffee. Still waiting. Suit jacket out of wardrobe, hanging on door - that will pull back a few seconds I thought. Still waiting, phone and wallet put into suit jacket pocket. At last the bathroom door opened.

Shaved, went to pour coffee, got half way out the door and realised I had already done that. Showered, teeth etc as usual. Then it was time to get dressed, pulled a pair of boxers and socks from the customary shelves, put on trousers, left foot then right foot for the shoes, went to bedside shelves - where are my cuff links? Ah, on the bed, that seemed wrong - but OK - I'll ride with the changes.

Go to sit on bed to tie shoe laces and put on cuff links. Halt! Return the pre-prepared but overlooked pair of boxers and socks back to their customary shelves. Proceed. Coffee is only luke warm damn it (poured to early in the piece).

Go to leave, wallet, oh shit, not again, where the hell is my wallet? Brief panic attack. That's right - it's in my damned jacket.

Everything I had done to try to save time outside of the normal routine was spurious; every attempt ended up costing me time. I had made myself alien to my own process - and despite the best of intentions - the experiment failed, badly.

I am not inflexible - I just know what I like and I like what I know! And I know what works for me.

Work update

Kathryn started working for us yesterday, very cool. And like me, I think she was suitably blown away by what is in store... The good news is, that I am five months into my contract and I still have that 'buzzy' feeling.

One thing I did notice immediately yesterday was that in NZ, Kathryn and I worked together very closely, and then we got close personally. We always had a great working relationship at Hudson, and then we built the personal relationship from there. I don't ever remember thinking about 'how we got on' at work, or personally, at all back in NZ - it was just a given.

But here it seems different. Kathryn and I are as close as ever, K and M have basically baby-sitted me through the 'London induction'. Personally K and I talk like we always used to - and it's cool. But it is also the reverse to how we met. Now we are two people that are very close, have then become colleagues, and now have to learn to be colleagues AND friends again. [Dear god - that's all a bit dramatic - Ed]

I know there are married people working side by side the world over! But it is still a bit weird and will take some getting used to - particularly when it comes to decision time post disagreement! (It should be fine as long as we remember who's the boss! ;-) )

Anyhoo, I talked to Mark re my perm contract for next year and can happily report that pay rises are much much better in pounds! So it looks like 12 months minimum - probably closer to a few years the way things are going.

As excited and happy as I am with that - I can not wait to get home in December!

It's the ruddy audacity that grates

Last night I received a phone call, not unusual in itself, but the voice on the other end of the phone was the same voice that answered my phone on Friday morning after it had been stolen - and they asked for the bastard that stole it by name!!! The bloody cheek!

The thing that is most annoying is that normally - I would call that number back and threaten death by tickling, or even something more masculine and sinister - but this guy knows where I live. And the one night he comes knocking - is the one night that Buzz will be home and me not. So a measured response is required. 'Measured' is not something I do well, so the scenario is outlined below - suggestions welcomed:

1. Prick demands 100 pounds to get me home (criminal)
2. Comes into my house (unwise on my part)
3. Steals my phone (wanker)
4. He is stupid enough to give out the number and one of his clan calls me once I have new SIM and the same number. (Not too clever).
5. I now have their number. (Could be handy).

So do I cancel the cheque and call them demanding the phone back - under fear of retribution? Cut my losses and just get on? Use my endless contacts to locate the 'mystery caller' and gently burn their house down?