People think that if they casually throw around words like "expert," they can get you to opine on and do things you otherwise wouldn’t.

You know you’ve become really old when you only remember its your own birthday after someone else wishes you.

I’ve started talking to myself again. (Full-blown conversations actually.) That can’t be a good sign.

The independent kid leaves the pack to go off exploring on his own… only to get eaten by a bear.

Dig out your soul

This is a forced entry. I haven’t had the remotest urge to write here (I blame µ), but I’m going to try to push myself back into the habit. Brace yourself for an immense drop in quality.

I’m still reeling from an exhausting day that was spent almost entirely in the cold rain outside. There was hiking, archery, climbing-related knot tying, tree climbing (which I shamelessly chickened out of), trivia-quizzing and feet sniffing (by cute little shot-dead-bird-retrieving dogs). I have the nagging feeling one of the activities ended with the penis of a bull, but there was too much cognac involved for me to be sure, and none of this is really central to today’s story.

I realised during the course of multiple conversations during the day that I have a certain style of speaking that leads people to respond to me in one of only two ways: (i) Either they get intimidated/bored (it doesn’t really matter which) and leave me alone, or (ii) they open up to me completely, looking upon me as an entirely sexless shoulder to lean on; both of which suck.

If I could be anything, I’d be a gentleman of leisure; which is probably British for unemployed.

The brand of mouthwash they sell around here (not Listerine) doesn’t burn my mouth every time I use it. I don’t think it’s working properly.

A beginner’s guide to being evil

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Part 1: Short selling

  1. Let’s say BigWig has 10,000 shares of Apple Corp. (worth, say, $150 each).
  2. JoeWeasel approaches BigWig and requests to “rent” these shares for a week, for say $50,000.
  3. BigWig sees this as a good deal, for once JoeWeasel returns his shares, in effect, he’s received $50,000 “for free.” So he says OK, and gives his shares over to JoeWeasel.
  4. JoeWeasel then immediately sells these shares (at $150 each) and receives $1,500,000 for it.
  5. JoeWeasel then writes a blog entry about how Steve Job’s cancer has resurfaced (or he had a heart attack or whatever). Once the media picks up on this, there is mass hysteria and panic—and the perceived value of Apple Corp. drops. Consequently, a drop in its share prices follows; so it’s now, say, $100 per share.
  6. JoeWeasel then quickly buys back 10,000 shares at this new lowered price of $1,000,000 using the $1,500,000 he pocketed a couple of days prior; netting him $500,000.
  7. At the end of the week, JoeWeasel returns the shares and $50,000 as a renting fee to BigWig.
  8. JoeWeasel walks away with $450,000 for a week’s hard work.
  9. In a few days, people realise that JoeWeasel was lying about Steve Job’s cancer, and the Apple Corp.’s share prices correct themselves—returning again to $150 per share. So BigWig didn’t really lose either.

This sort of thing really hurts my brain.

I just returned from a delightful outdoor-activity-filled evening out. It ended with being served reindeer meat for dinner. Outré

After an entire night of poking, probing and (controlled) dropping, my computer boots again. Now it’s time to restore all my data. Yuck.

My mac (which failed quite spectacularly today) made sure I backed up regularly; saving me from losing the data it tried to eat. Huh, what?

Why yes, my cellphone does have one of those clock thingies built into it.

My watch battery drained the first week I got here. The cool thing is that I haven’t missed it once.

You know, so the whole “finding a home” exercise could then become moot.