Just. Do. It.

I have had a collection of three wall-mounted guitar hooks for almost as long as we have lived in this house (we moved in August 05 - you do the maths, I'm too lazy). I've put off installing them for quite a while because, as previously mentioned, I'm somewhat lazy. It didn't help that when I was finally motivated to put them up, I discovered that my stud finder[1] worked less effectively when used slowly and carefully (it screws up its sensitively and it falsely reports when it has found the edge of the stud) and therefore I was drilling screws into plain old plaster, which wouldn't even support the weight of the hooks, yet alone the weight of a guitar as well.

When I changed jobs late last year, I finally started to get my act together and began adopting a Getting Things Done attitude, somewhat inspired by the 43 Folders/Lifehacker aesthetic. Part of the GTD method is break your big picture things down into "next actions" - that is, "what do I have to do next?" - the theory being, it's easier to go ahead and do something if the task is small and easily achievable, rather than some monolithic project hanging above your head like some sort of Sword of Damocles.[2]

Part of my @Home list (which doesn't get whittled down very quickly, but I am working on it) involved getting these guitar hooks up. A couple of weekends ago I went out and bought some nylon plaster plugs which allow me to hang up to 10kgs without needing any support behind the plaster. Over the last couple of weekends I have installed two of the hooks with one more to go (which will actually have a djembe and a ukulele hanging off it rather than a guitar or bass, but it still gets junk off the floor of the study/computer/music room).

I may not be much of a handyman, but every now and then I manage to do something vaguely DIY. Enjoy the before and after shots.

The wall before (well, technically, it's the opposite wall because I didn't think to take a photo until it was too late. However, it looked exactly the same. Trust me.)
















And here is the after shot (which is of the actual wall. Trust me.)













[1] a phrase that still makes my wife giggle uncontrollably - for extra fun, I like to tell her I bought my stud finder in Bangkok. You'd never guess that I'm the immature one in this marriage

[2] Of course, GTD is more than that. One of my favourite parts of GTD is the idea that most people are stressed because they carry around everything they need to do in their head, instead of recorded somewhere. Because it's all stored in their head, it's much easier to forget things and you tend to spend a lot of your time stressed because either (a) you just know you've forgotten something important but can't think what it is or (b) you're frantically doing damage control around some disaster, caused by you forgetting soemthing important. One of the strengths of GTD is that if you can develop a system of recording your next actions that you can trust completely, the mere act of recording stuff you need to do reduces your stress almost exponentially becuause you don't need to carry it around in your head anymore. I didn't really believe it until I tried. GTD and my trusty DIY Hipster PDA has meant that I forget nowhere near as many things as I used to, and I no longer find myself lying awake at night, my mind racing (or remembering stuff just before I go to sleep and forgetting it when I wake up and not remember it again until too late). In turn, I feel much more organised and relaxed although my wife has said she hasn't noticed any difference. I feel it though, and that makes a difference to me.

In search of a comet

It will come as no surprise to people that know me that I'm a little bit on the geeky side. So, when I found out that the brightest comet in over 40 years was clearly visible to the naked eye, I thought "this is something I've got to see...". The comet in question is the McNaught Comet.

I live very near Tuggeranong Hill, which I had heard afforded fantastic views of the surrounding area. While called a hill, it is technically a mountain so I figured I was pretty safe. If I could scale the fire trail that leads to the top of the Hill, I reckoned I could get a pretty good view of this streaming ball of cosmic ice.

The journey would be difficult for two reasons:

1. the comet was best seen at dusk, which is also not long after we normally put Elijah to sleep; and
2. being up the top of the hill at dusk would mean walking back down a fire trail in the dark, because, in hindsight, I have no brain and it never occurred to me to take a torch.

Elijah went to sleep quite easily in the end and I left for the hill, imaginary leave pass from my wife imaginarily clutched in my sweaty little hand. Now, I'm not unfit, but I'm definitely not fit either and the 20 minute walk up the hill was hard work. It was made harder by the fact that the fire trail is not the most stable of surfaces and was showing signs of erosion after the hard core storms that swept through the area over Christmas/New Year. Still, there was plenty of light although the sun was setting and I reached the top without incident.

I have always wanted to climb up to the top of Tuggeranong Hill and the view from the east did not disappoint.


I quite liked the view to the south as well.


The view to the west (where, apparently, the comet would reveal itself) was none too shabby either.


Since I had some time, I also checked out the TV broadcast signal repeater (appropriately adorned with a cheesy slogan - considering it's a hell of a walk, some people really are dedicated to their vandalism)...


... and then there was some sort of doodad dealy up there too (I have nfc what this is at all, but you can see the broadcast repeater tower in the background).


The sad thing about all this is, I waited for over an hour in the rising breeze, getting colder and colder as I regretted climbing a small mountain in t-shirt and shorts and shoes without socks. I got cold, it got increasingly dark and in the end, I had to head home disappointed, lest I break my neck on the descent.

Sometimes geekiness has a price that must be paid, a toll that must be extracted.

No comet for me.

Go here for a photo on Wikipedia of what the comet would have looked like in Canberra if I had been able to actually spot in the dusky sky.

Edit 1/2/07 21:57 to remove an orphan link. Oops.

Trim the sails, the wind has gone...

Ever had an idea, kicked it around with a friend for a while, decided it was worth chasing and discover someone else has already had it?

It can be, well, somewhat deflating.

That's cool. Life is full of good ideas. Maybe the next one...

(No, I'm not sharing the idea, but rest assured it was a cool one. There may still be hope in another form. One day.)

Edit: btw, post 1oo! Wow, has that taken a long time.

Just can't leave well enough alone

My skin, for some reason, has been playing up a little lately (too much information? Probably. Deal.)

Yesterday afternoon, I found a pimple that only I could see (and that was because only I can feel it) and it started driving me mad. When I got home, I just had to get at it. I just had to. I don't know why. I just did.

It was stubborn. It was deep. It was not its time. I didn't care. After much effort, I finally got it (well, some of it). Of course, for my efforts I now have what can only be described as a plasmay, leaky mess near the corner of my mouth. Luckily I can hide some of it in my facial hair but I can still see it. I know it's there, mocking me, whispering "You never learn, do you. Punk."

One day I will learn. On the upside, I did derive great satisfaction from the process. After all, it's the journey that is important, not the destination.

Oops. No site stats for you!

Unintended consequence of switching to New Blogger #1

I didn't think to check that the javascript from Sitemeter followed the template over to the new layout. Turns out it didn't. Here I am, thinking that no visitors just meant no one cared. It seems that not only do people not care but machines are actively working against me, too.

My last recorded visitor was on 18 December 2006. By my calculations, that means that I should have received at least 4 more hits since then.

I'm so popular.

Tip? I’ll give you a tip…

I don’t think anyone would argue that airports operate within a financial system that is a universe unto itself. It is probably only a matter of time before they start charging people for the air that they breathe inside the terminal (and I shudder to think what sort of margin they would be adding on top of that as well).

At the end of our recent holiday, we found ourselves in the departure lounge with a little bit of time to kill. The Boy needed to be breastfed and my wife was really thirsty (breastfeeding will do that to you). Since I had forgotten to fill up a water bottle and pack it in our carry-on luggage, it fell upon my shoulders to find a suitable replacement.

It was not long until our scheduled boarding time so I needed to find somewhere close with quick service. Casting my eye about, I chose a nearby store. Now, I use the word “store” in a not so much loose as liquid sense. The facility was a large bank of open-fronted refrigeration units where you perused and selected your chosen product, and one small check-out manned by a bored looking assistant.

After choosing a 750ml bottle of water, I was stunned to discover that the going rate in this dislocated economy was $4, more than twice what I would pay for this product in most supermarkets. However, as it was my fault we had to buy anything in the airport anyway, I gritted my teeth, took my karmic lumps with internal good humour and fished out the coins to pay. It was while I was paying for the bottle that I encountered something that really made me question just what it is that gets put into the water supply.

Prominently placed on the counter was a bowl with some coins, adorned with a sign communicating one simple word that is still burned into my occipital lobe – TIPS (and yes, it was in all caps, too). The rage seethed and bubbled deep within as part of my brain transmitted with full power over the entire telepathic spectrum with quiet fury: Not only did I select the bottle and physically transport it myself to the front counter and then pay well over twice what it is worth, but YOU WANT A FREAKING TIP? FOR WHAT? THE “SERVICE”?

Of course, making a scene is not my thing (deep down inside I’m just a spineless coward, like all the other sheeple) so I just quietly sighed (well, maybe not that quietly) when I found out that water now costs $4 and walked away.

You know what baffles me more than anything else? There were coins in the bowl. Either the proprietors of the kiosk have such a low opinion of people that they think that by chucking a few coins in a bowl, peer pressure will out and people will tip if they think the person in front of them in line did, OR, people actually have felt obliged to tip the staff in thanks for being gouged in an extraordinarily lazy manner (points for style, I guess).

I’m not sure which one is worse…