Technology comes even to the Australian rural coast. Against all expectation, I've found a net cafe in town, right next to a general store that doubles as a retailer of sheep dip.
It's strange being down here without Megan. I don't think I've ever done it before. The stormclouds keep intermittently dissolving into sweeping rains, whipping the sea into a churning dark monster, and it's so typical of a hundred days of my childhood that I expect to find Megan beside me, or waiting for me down the street, or looking out the windows as I come home.
We scattered the ashes last night, in a brief moment of clear weather. I don't know what I expected to feel, but whatever it was I didn't feel it. The contents of the urn went out into the sea, and it was just like skipping pebbles or kicking dust.
Afterwards I lay awake in one of those thin kid's beds that we keep down here, and I felt the same feeling I had as a child; that something was watching me. Like the night was alive with a single ancient intelligence, and close by my ears its inscrutable brain was pondering upon me.
As a child when this feeling came it terrified me; Megan called it the Crocodile, and said it wasn't scary because it wasn't interested in us. There's an old ship's bell hanging from the wall in the guest bedroom, and Megan once told me I could sleep easily, because she could hear the Crocodile well, and if he came for me, she'd ring the bell.
The bell never rang. And Megan was right anyway; there's nothing out in the night more sinister than the romance of the moon with the sea, and the flickering shadows born of that union. This land dreams on whether I keep vigil or not.
Saturday, 3 February 2007
Wednesday, 31 January 2007
Help!
I've been kidnapped!
By which I mean my parents have showed up at my place with the "surprise" that we're all going down to the coast place two days early. It seems a certain Mr Chase Oxley suggested to them that I need to get out of the house. Screw you, Chase.
So now I'm posting this from my mobile phone in some country town while my dad's filling the tank with petrol. Black Mountain's off; I'm not going to be back in Canberra until early next week. Aargh! Just when I'd made up my mind to resolve this thing!
... I don't suppose there's a chance any of you could find someone from Canberra to go check up there for me at all? I'm freaking out that it's going to be gone before I get back. In normal circumstances I'd hit up Chase but I don't think he's going to be receptive. (Him and I will settle this when I get back, mark my words.)
By which I mean my parents have showed up at my place with the "surprise" that we're all going down to the coast place two days early. It seems a certain Mr Chase Oxley suggested to them that I need to get out of the house. Screw you, Chase.
So now I'm posting this from my mobile phone in some country town while my dad's filling the tank with petrol. Black Mountain's off; I'm not going to be back in Canberra until early next week. Aargh! Just when I'd made up my mind to resolve this thing!
... I don't suppose there's a chance any of you could find someone from Canberra to go check up there for me at all? I'm freaking out that it's going to be gone before I get back. In normal circumstances I'd hit up Chase but I don't think he's going to be receptive. (Him and I will settle this when I get back, mark my words.)
Going Up
Okay, it's time for me to stop wavering around and take matters into my own hands. Whether or not it's a message for Megan, someone clearly wants me to go up Black Mountain and look for something which has been buried.
I'm going to go out this morning and buy some decent digging tools, and then I'll head up and have an explore this evening.
Now that I've decided to go, I can't wait to see what's up there. I'm also worrying I've stuffed around too long and the trail's grown cold. This much nervousness and excitement demands that I go make a good cup of coffee. I'll blog again this evening.
I'm going to go out this morning and buy some decent digging tools, and then I'll head up and have an explore this evening.
Now that I've decided to go, I can't wait to see what's up there. I'm also worrying I've stuffed around too long and the trail's grown cold. This much nervousness and excitement demands that I go make a good cup of coffee. I'll blog again this evening.
Tuesday, 30 January 2007
Progress!
Chase has let me know again that he isn't even going to open the front page at Who Is Megan Kyle, let alone read the forums. Other than that, though, I'm astounded by how succesful my call for help on the internet has been.
Firstly, a team effort discovered that the company that Megan was working for before her death, Vanadium Network Solutions, has mysteriously closed up shop and is claiming they haven't been operating for about two years. Which is just a lie. I know Megan worked there. The evidence should be in the Cadmean Recruiting database, in the form of Vanadium's job ad. If only we knew what username and password Vanadium used to register it, we could retrieve the ad, but the chances of prying that information out of Cadmean's matching officers seems slim.
A message hidden in the source code of the Vanadium site (found by Tipsila) leads to a blog run by someone calling themselves Occluder (discovered by Esteed). The blog itself is scattered with hidden messages that seem to imply whoever's running it knew that my sister was going to die well ahead of the event. (Thanks to Freshness for finding those.) I've been leaving comments on the blog since we found it but they just keep getting deleted. It seems like someone doesn't want to come out from behind their curtain just yet.
Lastly, there's Megan's video. Or at least, the video which appeared on Megan's blog. It shows a variety of views of Black Mountain and the Telstra Tower (notable Canberra landmarks). We're thinking that maybe Megan left or buried something on the mountain, but I'm a little unsure exactly what to do. There's a lot of bushland up there to cover.
All that still adds up to a lot more than I ever expected to find when I opened the website. The accomplishments listed abover are just some of the genius that's already been applied to this mystery; I'll try and list more as I get the chance. Thanks to everyone who's helped so far, and if you're reading and haven't got involved yet, now's a great time to jump in! Remember to post anything you learn in the Who Is Megan Kyle forums so I can try and get my head around it.
Firstly, a team effort discovered that the company that Megan was working for before her death, Vanadium Network Solutions, has mysteriously closed up shop and is claiming they haven't been operating for about two years. Which is just a lie. I know Megan worked there. The evidence should be in the Cadmean Recruiting database, in the form of Vanadium's job ad. If only we knew what username and password Vanadium used to register it, we could retrieve the ad, but the chances of prying that information out of Cadmean's matching officers seems slim.
A message hidden in the source code of the Vanadium site (found by Tipsila) leads to a blog run by someone calling themselves Occluder (discovered by Esteed). The blog itself is scattered with hidden messages that seem to imply whoever's running it knew that my sister was going to die well ahead of the event. (Thanks to Freshness for finding those.) I've been leaving comments on the blog since we found it but they just keep getting deleted. It seems like someone doesn't want to come out from behind their curtain just yet.
Lastly, there's Megan's video. Or at least, the video which appeared on Megan's blog. It shows a variety of views of Black Mountain and the Telstra Tower (notable Canberra landmarks). We're thinking that maybe Megan left or buried something on the mountain, but I'm a little unsure exactly what to do. There's a lot of bushland up there to cover.
All that still adds up to a lot more than I ever expected to find when I opened the website. The accomplishments listed abover are just some of the genius that's already been applied to this mystery; I'll try and list more as I get the chance. Thanks to everyone who's helped so far, and if you're reading and haven't got involved yet, now's a great time to jump in! Remember to post anything you learn in the Who Is Megan Kyle forums so I can try and get my head around it.
Monday, 29 January 2007
Rain And The Window
Phillip, you can't see the rain, but when he comes I'll ring a bell.
The funeral was today. It was a small service; mostly just me and the family. Aunt Sally and Uncle Rod came down from Sydney. Chase was there, and a couple of Megan's friends from school. It was a cremation; the urn went back to Mum and Dad's place. We're going to take it down to the coast place next weekend to scatter the ashes into the sea.
It leaves me thinking about the message Megan left me in the email.
When I was 8, and Megan was about 5, we were at the coast place over Easter. There's these thick glass windows through the living room - thick like the bottoms of bottles - and out and through them you can see the shape of the Pacific Ocean like an abstract painting rendered in shifting panes of blue light.
It was afternoon, and Mum and Dad were out, I think buying groceries, and we're in the living room in the fading light of day, in that kind of twilight gloom that comes with an Australian spring. The air has had that expectant feeling that hopes for a storm, and as we're sitting on the tatty old couches the first drops of rain start falling in hesitant waves across the house roof.
We can hear it - and we can feel the change in the air rush through, as the shadow of the storm becomes the storm itself - and Megan gets up and rushes to the window and looks out at what might be the distant waves driven before the downpour.
She says to me, "I can see the rain, Phillip."
And I look, out through those same windows, but I can't see anything. It's just a blur. So I tell her she's wrong, that she's imagining it. But she says it again, "I can see the rain," and I just know that she's right, that to her the drops of rain are really visible. And I stood with her, and I just watched out through the bottle-thick glass, and knew that though we were looking through the same lens we were seeing completely different worlds.
I think that's the first time as a child that I really understood that other people see things differently to me. It was my first inkling that the way I saw reality was possibly not the only way to see it.
So now that this video has appeared on Megan's blog - I have to wonder whether what's in the urn is really all of Megan. I have to think that, just maybe, there's a bit left, still free. So just now, I did what I should have done last Thursday - I replied to the email she sent me.
I'm too late. I got this back:
--
Title: No Message
On 1/29/07, Megan Kyle wrote:> Gone.
The funeral was today. It was a small service; mostly just me and the family. Aunt Sally and Uncle Rod came down from Sydney. Chase was there, and a couple of Megan's friends from school. It was a cremation; the urn went back to Mum and Dad's place. We're going to take it down to the coast place next weekend to scatter the ashes into the sea.
It leaves me thinking about the message Megan left me in the email.
When I was 8, and Megan was about 5, we were at the coast place over Easter. There's these thick glass windows through the living room - thick like the bottoms of bottles - and out and through them you can see the shape of the Pacific Ocean like an abstract painting rendered in shifting panes of blue light.
It was afternoon, and Mum and Dad were out, I think buying groceries, and we're in the living room in the fading light of day, in that kind of twilight gloom that comes with an Australian spring. The air has had that expectant feeling that hopes for a storm, and as we're sitting on the tatty old couches the first drops of rain start falling in hesitant waves across the house roof.
We can hear it - and we can feel the change in the air rush through, as the shadow of the storm becomes the storm itself - and Megan gets up and rushes to the window and looks out at what might be the distant waves driven before the downpour.
She says to me, "I can see the rain, Phillip."
And I look, out through those same windows, but I can't see anything. It's just a blur. So I tell her she's wrong, that she's imagining it. But she says it again, "I can see the rain," and I just know that she's right, that to her the drops of rain are really visible. And I stood with her, and I just watched out through the bottle-thick glass, and knew that though we were looking through the same lens we were seeing completely different worlds.
I think that's the first time as a child that I really understood that other people see things differently to me. It was my first inkling that the way I saw reality was possibly not the only way to see it.
So now that this video has appeared on Megan's blog - I have to wonder whether what's in the urn is really all of Megan. I have to think that, just maybe, there's a bit left, still free. So just now, I did what I should have done last Thursday - I replied to the email she sent me.
I'm too late. I got this back:
--
Title: No Message
On 1/29/07, Megan Kyle wrote:> Gone.
Sunday, 28 January 2007
Sifting The Dust
I'm actually logging on today from Megan's computer. I'm in her house, in her study, in the room where she died. It's kind of creepy.
At the same time, though, this room is so Megan that it's really comforting. It feels safe here. She's got that picture Chase did of her in a yellow papier-mache frame on the desk and it kind of feels like she's watching me. It's a good feeling.
I'm here because I'm sorting through her things. Her rent is only paid up for about another ten days so we have to go through her stuff in a hurry. (We = me, plus mum and dad.) We're deciding what to take ourselves, what to put in storage, and what to get rid of.
It's an emotional rollercoaster. Megan was a packrat, with a surprisingly wide variety of possessions, and I keep running into things I'm not expecting. Probably the worst was I found a big box of photos from when Megan and I were kids and I had to go and get some air outside and pull myself together.
I've yet to find any of Megan's copies of Peter Pan, though. She had at least three, including a hardback that I gave her for her birthday a couple of years ago. If any of her friends are reading, do you know if she lent them out or anything? I'd really love to know what happened to them.
At the same time, though, this room is so Megan that it's really comforting. It feels safe here. She's got that picture Chase did of her in a yellow papier-mache frame on the desk and it kind of feels like she's watching me. It's a good feeling.
I'm here because I'm sorting through her things. Her rent is only paid up for about another ten days so we have to go through her stuff in a hurry. (We = me, plus mum and dad.) We're deciding what to take ourselves, what to put in storage, and what to get rid of.
It's an emotional rollercoaster. Megan was a packrat, with a surprisingly wide variety of possessions, and I keep running into things I'm not expecting. Probably the worst was I found a big box of photos from when Megan and I were kids and I had to go and get some air outside and pull myself together.
I've yet to find any of Megan's copies of Peter Pan, though. She had at least three, including a hardback that I gave her for her birthday a couple of years ago. If any of her friends are reading, do you know if she lent them out or anything? I'd really love to know what happened to them.
Saturday, 27 January 2007
Emails
It seems that I'm not the only one who's receiving these emails from my sister's account. Whoever's sending these things out has been busy. All logic says this is a horrible joke being played on a very large scale, but after learning about the message in the "5th Rail" email, I don't know what to think.
Cadmean Recruiting has been kind enough to give me as much time off work as I need, which is good because my family needs me a lot right now. I'm spending time with my parents, so I'm not online as much as I could be. Which is probably for the best, because I might go mad if I end up just staring at a screen wondering who's out there.
If you've received any emails from "Megan Kyle", or seen anything else having to do with her, I've set up a site to collect your stories. You should travel over to www.whoismegankyle.com and sign up to the forums there.
Your concern and care in this difficult time are greatly appreciated.
Cadmean Recruiting has been kind enough to give me as much time off work as I need, which is good because my family needs me a lot right now. I'm spending time with my parents, so I'm not online as much as I could be. Which is probably for the best, because I might go mad if I end up just staring at a screen wondering who's out there.
If you've received any emails from "Megan Kyle", or seen anything else having to do with her, I've set up a site to collect your stories. You should travel over to www.whoismegankyle.com and sign up to the forums there.
Your concern and care in this difficult time are greatly appreciated.
Thursday, 25 January 2007
Not Funny
Okay, whoever you are. You're not funny. Faking my sister's account info to send emails is... I don't have words for it, but you need professional help. If I find out who you are, you can bet that I'm taking this matter up with the police.
Also? It doesn't even make any sense. I don't know whether you're so high you can't see that, or whether your sense of humour is just that bad, but this is not a clever email:
Title: 5th rail
PICER UNMLA HPAEA THERB IYNTI WESIE LOTHN HCINL LUSEB EOLGL
It's just gibberish. Stop it.
Also? It doesn't even make any sense. I don't know whether you're so high you can't see that, or whether your sense of humour is just that bad, but this is not a clever email:
Title: 5th rail
PICER UNMLA HPAEA THERB IYNTI WESIE LOTHN HCINL LUSEB EOLGL
It's just gibberish. Stop it.
More Detail
Sorry; I'm not feeling much like blogging right now.
For those of you who have been asking, here's as much more detail as I can handle. On Tuesday, I saw Megan's last post on her blog, about an hour after she posted it. I left work in a hurry and went straight to her place. When I got there she wasn't answering the door. I used my spare key and let myself in. I found Megan in her study with the computer still on; she was lying on the floor. There was an open bottle of domestic bleach on the computer bench. We're pretty sure she drank most of the bottle. There were signs she vomited repeatedly. She had burns and blistering around her mouth. It seems likely that she died of heart failure brought about by sodium hypochlorite poisoning.
When I found her she was still warm.
I'm done now. That's enough.
For those of you who have been asking, here's as much more detail as I can handle. On Tuesday, I saw Megan's last post on her blog, about an hour after she posted it. I left work in a hurry and went straight to her place. When I got there she wasn't answering the door. I used my spare key and let myself in. I found Megan in her study with the computer still on; she was lying on the floor. There was an open bottle of domestic bleach on the computer bench. We're pretty sure she drank most of the bottle. There were signs she vomited repeatedly. She had burns and blistering around her mouth. It seems likely that she died of heart failure brought about by sodium hypochlorite poisoning.
When I found her she was still warm.
I'm done now. That's enough.
News
My sister Megan passed away at a little after midday on Tuesday 23 January as a result of a self-inflicted poisoning.
Tuesday, 23 January 2007
Sunday, 21 January 2007
Worried About Megan
Megan hasn't been answering her phone all weekend, and we were supposed to be going to the markets today, so I went round to her house to see what was going on.
She answered the door and let me in but I could see right away she was really depressed. I haven't seen her like this since... a few years ago. She was barely talking at all.
She had boxes everywhere, and she was packing her things into them. I was worried and scared and I kind of went ballistic and yelled at her and said she couldn't move to London. She barely even replied. I sat her down and made her tea and told her I wouldn't leave the house until she promised me she'd go back to work tomorrow and not make any stupid decisions while she was depressed. I got her to agree. Eventually.
She'll get over this. She always does.
She answered the door and let me in but I could see right away she was really depressed. I haven't seen her like this since... a few years ago. She was barely talking at all.
She had boxes everywhere, and she was packing her things into them. I was worried and scared and I kind of went ballistic and yelled at her and said she couldn't move to London. She barely even replied. I sat her down and made her tea and told her I wouldn't leave the house until she promised me she'd go back to work tomorrow and not make any stupid decisions while she was depressed. I got her to agree. Eventually.
She'll get over this. She always does.
Saturday, 20 January 2007
Testing, 1, 2 ...
Hey, Megan, are you there? I've been trying to contact you all day, but your phone's ringing out with no answer. I called Mum and she says that you were there for half an hour this morning and then left in a hurry. What's going on? Get in touch! It's okay to ring me late, I'm not going to be getting much sleep in this heat anyway.
Friday, 19 January 2007
The Hangman Paradox
I love a good paradox.
***
A judge tells a condemned prisoner that he will be hanged at noon on one day in the following week but that the execution will be a surprise to the prisoner. He will not know the day of the hanging until the executioner knocks on his cell door at noon that day.
Having reflected on his sentence, the prisoner draws the conclusion that he will escape from the hanging. His reasoning is in several parts. He begins by concluding that if the hanging were on Friday then it would not be a surprise, since he would know by Thursday night that he was to be hanged the following day, as it would be the only day left. Since the judge's sentence stipulated that the hanging would be a surprise to him, he concludes it cannot occur on Friday.
He then reasons that the hanging cannot be on Thursday either, because that day would also not be a surprise. On Wednesday night he would know that, with two days left (one of which he already knows cannot be execution day), the hanging should be expected on the following day.
By similar reasoning he concludes that the hanging can also not occur on Wednesday, Tuesday or Monday. Joyfully he retires to his cell confident that the hanging will not occur at all.
The next week, the executioner knocks on the prisoner's door at noon on Tuesday - an utter surprise to him. Everything the judge said has come true.
***
Possibly the judge should have said, "The prisoner will be hanged on a date in the next week and that date will not be deducible in advance using this statement as an axiom."
***
A judge tells a condemned prisoner that he will be hanged at noon on one day in the following week but that the execution will be a surprise to the prisoner. He will not know the day of the hanging until the executioner knocks on his cell door at noon that day.
Having reflected on his sentence, the prisoner draws the conclusion that he will escape from the hanging. His reasoning is in several parts. He begins by concluding that if the hanging were on Friday then it would not be a surprise, since he would know by Thursday night that he was to be hanged the following day, as it would be the only day left. Since the judge's sentence stipulated that the hanging would be a surprise to him, he concludes it cannot occur on Friday.
He then reasons that the hanging cannot be on Thursday either, because that day would also not be a surprise. On Wednesday night he would know that, with two days left (one of which he already knows cannot be execution day), the hanging should be expected on the following day.
By similar reasoning he concludes that the hanging can also not occur on Wednesday, Tuesday or Monday. Joyfully he retires to his cell confident that the hanging will not occur at all.
The next week, the executioner knocks on the prisoner's door at noon on Tuesday - an utter surprise to him. Everything the judge said has come true.
***
Possibly the judge should have said, "The prisoner will be hanged on a date in the next week and that date will not be deducible in advance using this statement as an axiom."
Wednesday, 17 January 2007
A Post About...
... actually, I don't know what this post is about. I just got home from rock climbing, I'm full of good buzz, and I felt like I should blog. About... something.
Pretty much the only downer all night was this punk kid hanging around the front of the climbing centre. When we came out to our cars, this teenager in a hoody was standing right next to Jodie's Ford, so Jodie told him to push off. The kid didn't move, so Jodie went closer, and then out of nowhere the kid pulls out this spray can and blasts purple paint all over Jodie and Jodie's car. The little twerp ran off before any of us could catch him.
The climbing was fantastic, though, and Jodie was still in a really good mood even with a ruined shirt and pants, so all in all I'm calling tonight a win for the good guys.
Pretty much the only downer all night was this punk kid hanging around the front of the climbing centre. When we came out to our cars, this teenager in a hoody was standing right next to Jodie's Ford, so Jodie told him to push off. The kid didn't move, so Jodie went closer, and then out of nowhere the kid pulls out this spray can and blasts purple paint all over Jodie and Jodie's car. The little twerp ran off before any of us could catch him.
The climbing was fantastic, though, and Jodie was still in a really good mood even with a ruined shirt and pants, so all in all I'm calling tonight a win for the good guys.
Tuesday, 16 January 2007
The Benefits of Knowing Chase
Actually, there's a very large number of benefits of knowing Chase, but the one I'm blogging about tonight is that he occasionally gives absolutely fantastic artwork to his friends.I have to say it's an amazing likeness of me, done from a photo he took a while ago. My friend Mr Oxley never seems to give me a chance to stop being impressed.
This doesn't just come out of the blue - Chase and I had dinner at Megan's place tonight, which was where Chase forked over pictures of Megan and I, with attendant mumblings about them being belated Xmas presents. I think I already got a present from Chase for Christmas, but whatever. I'm certainly not giving this one back.
For the record, Megan was surprisingly chipper for someone who just quit her job yesterday. She's got some plan about moving to London, which, trust me, is never going to happen. She gets like this. In 2001 she thought she was going to join the army. In 2004 I think she was going to start a band. She's fantastically intelligent and could do any of these things if she put her mind to it, but she just burns out before they reach fruition.
Plus, if she moved to London, I'd miss her.
Anyway, I convinced her to put her resume in with Cadmean Recruiting and maybe land a temp job for a while. At worst, it'll get her through until she gets over this whole thing.
Monday, 15 January 2007
Stupid Office
My office has the stupidest way of doing business. We're a temping and recruiting agency, right? So we accept CVs from potential temps, and we accept placement opportunities from potential employers. And we go to the trouble of making the whole mess available online.
So what do we do then? We password lock it. You can't see any individual CV or placement unless it's one you submitted, and you input your username and password. Even I can't see them! There's matching agents upstairs who get the full thing, and then they match applicants with jobs, and email me so I can ring the applicant.
I swear, no other temping agency does business like this! It's just ridiculous!
I have to say, though, that it all goes into perspective compared to Megan's latest bout of crazy. I swear that girl can make drama out of drying paint.
So what do we do then? We password lock it. You can't see any individual CV or placement unless it's one you submitted, and you input your username and password. Even I can't see them! There's matching agents upstairs who get the full thing, and then they match applicants with jobs, and email me so I can ring the applicant.
I swear, no other temping agency does business like this! It's just ridiculous!
I have to say, though, that it all goes into perspective compared to Megan's latest bout of crazy. I swear that girl can make drama out of drying paint.
Sunday, 14 January 2007
Birthdays
I got randomly solicited by telephone surveyors today (something about my tastes in alcohol). In the course of it, the telephone interviewer asked me what my birthday was. I said 23 December.
"Wow," she said. "You're the second person I've talked to today who had that birthday! And I've only called about twenty-something people!"
It's not all that surprising, though. In any randomly chosen group of twenty three people, your odds of finding two with the same birthday are better than 50%.
Much like the Monty Hall Paradox (not actually a paradox), this seems counterintuitive when you first hear it, until you start thinking about it backwards. For example: what are the odds that person 2 has a diffferent birthday from person one? 365 in 366, right? Okay, so then what are the odds that as well, person 3 has a different birthday from the first two? And then that person 4 has different birthdays from the first three? And so on, through to lucky number 23.
It took me ages to explain to the phone interviewer, though. I'm not sure we ever did finish the survey.
"Wow," she said. "You're the second person I've talked to today who had that birthday! And I've only called about twenty-something people!"
It's not all that surprising, though. In any randomly chosen group of twenty three people, your odds of finding two with the same birthday are better than 50%.
Much like the Monty Hall Paradox (not actually a paradox), this seems counterintuitive when you first hear it, until you start thinking about it backwards. For example: what are the odds that person 2 has a diffferent birthday from person one? 365 in 366, right? Okay, so then what are the odds that as well, person 3 has a different birthday from the first two? And then that person 4 has different birthdays from the first three? And so on, through to lucky number 23.
It took me ages to explain to the phone interviewer, though. I'm not sure we ever did finish the survey.
Saturday, 13 January 2007
Lazy Saturday
I'd forgotten how good just hanging out at the house can be. It's a sweltering Canberra summer at the moment and I've never regretted renting a house with ducted air conditioning less. The lounge room in particular is a breezy 20 degrees while the temperature on the deck outside is topping 32.
Megan came round today to hang out for a while. She brought cream for my shoulder, which worked wonders. (Hey Megs - I now officially don't regret you being born!) Also we watched some Heroes, fresh from the internet, which was awesome. It was the first time I'd seen it, and I was beaucoup impressed.
We ended up chatting about what the best movies were this year. I'm all in favour of The Prestige for my pick, but Megan thinks going to see Snakes on a Plane with Chase was the high point of her cinematic year. Sometimes I can hardly believe I'm related to this girl...
Megan's really stressing about her job, which it sounds like she's really hating. I just hope she's not going to do anything stupid.
Megan came round today to hang out for a while. She brought cream for my shoulder, which worked wonders. (Hey Megs - I now officially don't regret you being born!) Also we watched some Heroes, fresh from the internet, which was awesome. It was the first time I'd seen it, and I was beaucoup impressed.
We ended up chatting about what the best movies were this year. I'm all in favour of The Prestige for my pick, but Megan thinks going to see Snakes on a Plane with Chase was the high point of her cinematic year. Sometimes I can hardly believe I'm related to this girl...
Megan's really stressing about her job, which it sounds like she's really hating. I just hope she's not going to do anything stupid.
Thursday, 11 January 2007
Ouch
I bashed my shoulder last night while rock climbing.
The guys I normally go with are good. (They call themselves the Xtreme Squad, which I still think is a stupid name, but whatever.) I've been climbing with them for months and I've never had a problem. Last night, though, we had a new guy, who shall not be named.
New Guy said he'd climbed before, so we put him up climbing with Ken belaying, and he did fine. Later, I was climbing, and New Guy was belaying, and that's when the screw up happened.
I was only a couple of feet past my last cam, when my feet slipped off my foothold. So normally I'd have about a five foot fall, but I'd be fine (twice the length of rope past the cam, plus a little for stretch).
Unfortunately New Guy is an idiot. He's supposed to arrest the rope as soon as he sees me falling, but instead he was, I don't know, looking at women or something, so his reaction was slow. Which means instead of me falling five feet and being fine, I went fourteen feet and smashed my shoulder into the wall hard enough to put me out of action for the rest of the evening.
The group decision was that New Guy isn't coming back next week. But my shoulder still hurts. I hope it's all just bruising.
The guys I normally go with are good. (They call themselves the Xtreme Squad, which I still think is a stupid name, but whatever.) I've been climbing with them for months and I've never had a problem. Last night, though, we had a new guy, who shall not be named.
New Guy said he'd climbed before, so we put him up climbing with Ken belaying, and he did fine. Later, I was climbing, and New Guy was belaying, and that's when the screw up happened.
I was only a couple of feet past my last cam, when my feet slipped off my foothold. So normally I'd have about a five foot fall, but I'd be fine (twice the length of rope past the cam, plus a little for stretch).
Unfortunately New Guy is an idiot. He's supposed to arrest the rope as soon as he sees me falling, but instead he was, I don't know, looking at women or something, so his reaction was slow. Which means instead of me falling five feet and being fine, I went fourteen feet and smashed my shoulder into the wall hard enough to put me out of action for the rest of the evening.
The group decision was that New Guy isn't coming back next week. But my shoulder still hurts. I hope it's all just bruising.
Wednesday, 10 January 2007
Exploring The Final Groovy Mystery
Sad news that Iwao Takamoto, creator of Scooby Doo, died yesterday aged 81. Takamoto was also the creator of Muttley, the Jetsons's dog Astro, and (unfortunately) the Great Gazoo from The Flintstones.
We all would have got away with it, too, if it weren't for his meddling kids.
We all would have got away with it, too, if it weren't for his meddling kids.
Sunday, 7 January 2007
Three Lights
Here's one for a certain sister.
I have three outdoor lights on the outside of my house that I never use. (As you know, I'm not much of an outdoor guy.) In fact, yesterday I realised that I don't even know where the switches are that turn them on and off.
I've had a hunt around, and in my basement I've found three switches that I'm reasonably sure are the ones in question. I seem to remember that each switch controls one and only one of the outdoor lights, and all of the lights are controlled by one of these switches. I've just replaced the bulbs in the outdoor lights, so if I find the right switch they should light up.
I can't see any of the lights from inside the basement. Now obviously I could walk up and down the stairs from the basement a bunch of times to check which switches go with which lights, but man those stairs are tiring, and I'm kind of lazy. I'm pretty sure that if I start from the basement there's a way of working out which switches are which with only one trip up the stairs. Am I wrong? How do I do it?
I have three outdoor lights on the outside of my house that I never use. (As you know, I'm not much of an outdoor guy.) In fact, yesterday I realised that I don't even know where the switches are that turn them on and off.
I've had a hunt around, and in my basement I've found three switches that I'm reasonably sure are the ones in question. I seem to remember that each switch controls one and only one of the outdoor lights, and all of the lights are controlled by one of these switches. I've just replaced the bulbs in the outdoor lights, so if I find the right switch they should light up.
I can't see any of the lights from inside the basement. Now obviously I could walk up and down the stairs from the basement a bunch of times to check which switches go with which lights, but man those stairs are tiring, and I'm kind of lazy. I'm pretty sure that if I start from the basement there's a way of working out which switches are which with only one trip up the stairs. Am I wrong? How do I do it?
Quit It!
It seems pretty clear that my sister isn't going to leave me alone until I make a blog, so fine, here it is. Are you happy now?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
