You know you're a geek when...

...you accidently sing the lyrics "fun fun fun now that daddy took the keyboard away" to Beach Boys' song "Fun fun fun".

I think I've finally lost it.

On my mind…

UPDATE:
Oh, and you know what else? My Playstation. Not only did I have a crappy Saturday finding out how my clothes handled various bodily excretions during extended bouts of fear, but I got home to find that my PS3 had officially and unequivocally bit the dust. It’s only 6 months old! I take very good care of all my toys and accessories, and I’ve never – NEVER – had anything fail on me. I only replace my phones when I get bored with my old one. I don’t drop them in water, or crack the screens. My cars never fail me. But my PS3 clearly thinks it’s better than that. It really was the last thing I needed.

UPDATE:
Skydiving: Now, for most of you out there, you may not understand this. I don’t either. For me, strangely, it was a double-negative, while all of the other Lads put it right up there with three-somes and open bars. I was absolutely terrified, and I really didn’t enjoy it. My mind went into total survival mode, and shut down all unnecessary programs, including Memory Recording™, which is obviously one of the most important. My tandem instructor insists we free-fell for about 25-30 seconds, and took another four and a half minutes to hit the ground, but I swear to god, the freefall was 3-4 seconds and we went from the door to touchdown within 30-35 seconds. I kid you not, it was pure terror and my brain just shut down. Not cool for £160 and waiting for 11 hours over two separate trips. So not only do I feel emotionally and physically violated, but the guys had an absolutely fantastic time, so I feel like I’ve missed out on that too. I’ve decided that even though I didn’t enjoy it one bit, I’m going to do it again and see if I can get some of the entertainment the other guys got. What a royal pain in the ass.

Flat: Once again, my flatmate is making a move and leaving me to find a replacement. I mean, she’s not passing the baton to me; it’s already my responsibility, but it’s a deeply hated process, this finding a new flatmate. What really scares me right now is that rents are going down. Well, everyone’s rents but mine, making filling the room that much harder. It’s only been half a day since I put the first advert in Gumtree, but it still fills me with dread. I literally can’t afford to hold the place by myself, but I don’t want to move either. Dammit. DAMMIT!

Visa: Not only did I want until literally the day before my existing visa ran out to apply for my next one (stress number 1), but I also got sent an email saying that they’ve made it tougher to apply for this particular visa – so tough that I’m no longer eligible (stress number 2). This is not very good for me. As if those two stresses aren’t enough, they also have my passport and won’t give it back until they get around to processing, meaning I’ve had to cancel some trips I was really looking forward to. (see ‘Travel’).

Travel: After ‘The Breakup’ I’ve been trying to get out more, and see more things. Every time someone asks if I want to go do something, or see something, I’ve made a special effort to go with it. Meet some more people, see some more things. However, because of the passport issue, I’ve had to cancel the snowboarding trip to the French Alps, the St. Patrick’s Day trip to Dublin and if shit doesn’t change very soon, the diving trip to the Red Sea. This is really not sitting well with me. I need to travel to keep my mind off things, especially because of my current mental state (see ‘SAD’), but my passport has been removed. Taken out of the equation. Not cool.

SAD: Seasonal Affective Disorder. Basically, the ‘I hate winter’ blues. I suffered from this last year as well, but I turned to someone who helped me out. She’s gone now, and there’s not many people I think that I want to give me a hand. I guess it’s something I have to deal with myself. Chin up though; it’s sunny outside and getting bright at about 5am (I know this because I was wide awake at that time), so I’m going with the Lads this lunchtime and catching some rays. I’m told the sunshine’s vitamin-D is perfect to help deal with the problem, so we’ll see how it goes. Thank god it’s the end of winter right now. I wouldn’t be able to make it if it were just starting.

Sister: Someone who was always there for me, lived just around the corner. Always calling and emailing and being generally sweet. She’s gone now, over to Abu Dhabi, with husband in tow, and I pretty much don’t know what to do about it. Poos. Makes it that little bit harder.

Friends: I’m quite concerned that a few of my good friends are going back to NZ. Especially my good mate Dave who is always kind enough to invite me places. I fear my travel options with people I know will halve when he shoots of back home, and I’m not looking forward to it. Pity.

So, that’s MOSTLY what’s on my mind. There’s a bit more that I shouldn’t really talk about, but if you know me then ask. I’m happy to tell you. I know everything will turn out, because it usually does, but right now I feel like it’s pouring pretty hard. Standby for updates; send your ideas for how to resolve some of these!

Peace.

Are you the Bad Apple?

I fear that I may be a little bit. I wonder how it affects my guys in the team? And what’s the solution? Can I change? Will I change? Can I change others who are the Bad Apple? If you knew you were the Bad Apple, would you want to change? Is it your problem or the team’s problem?

The Bad Apple

Bottling it all up

As part of the ‘changes’ regime (don’t worry, it’s not supposed to make sense right now), I’ve started to try at least curb my anger problems and snide, cheap unnecessary comments I seem to make. You see, I’ve got an opinion about pretty much everything. Things I clearly don’t know anything about, like women and space travel, I just admit I’m lost, but everything else? I’ve got something to say and generally say it.

For many years, I’ve just said whatever comes into my head, like “I really feel like a pizza”, and then comment on whatever we’re talking about. Being a perfectionist, few things pass the test, and I let people know that. I think for most people, it gets pretty boring, and no doubt I’ve pissed a few people off with it. So I’m at least trying to put the brakes on a little bit. There’s nothing worse than a boyfriend who acts like a teenager.

But I’m worried about it getting bottled up inside, you know? Step two in the process (after the generic step one: “admitting you have a problem”), is just taking a big deep breath when you start to see the red mist. I usually say something, THEN think about it and realise it was pretty damn stupid. Thoughts like “you can’t change it now anyway” rarely prove enough to stop me in my tracks when I’m hellbent. But I’m making an effort now. I just hope to hell it doesn’t all just come out one day. I guess throwing a huge fit WOULD be worse than acting like a teenager.

Hold it… aren’t they the same thing?

Zero plus, or one hundred minus?

In one of my favourite books, Red Dwarf (which, by the way, is funnier than the show), Lister said something that always stuck with me, and I think about more often than not when thinking about people. While talking about his parents, he said something along the lines of…

“There are two types of people in this world. When you do something or make a mistake, people judge you. Some people rank you by starting at zero, and giving you points every time you do something right. My parents started at 100 and every time I did something wrong they’d take points away from me.” Of course, he said it in a much better, funnier and comprehendible way. Look, I’m not a writer. Fuck you.

Anyway, I find this concept very interesting. The views you have on certain people, and the way you rate them vary greatly, depending on who they are, where they come from, and what they’ve done to you in the past. People rate other people differently. Sometimes, and this is where I’m going with this post you’ll be glad to know, people can use both methods.

Talking to my friend on MSN, it’s her birthday. Happy birthday! Unfortunately, her day isn’t going as well as a lady’s birthday should, and it got me thinking about my girlfriends. What would they do if I didn’t make them dinner or take them out for their Big Day? What would happen if I just didn’t get them a present? I’m sure they wouldn’t say anything, but then again, that’s not necessarily a good thing with a woman. Them being quiet is them taking a few points off your 100.

I don’t know, because I have quite low self-esteem in this area, but I hope to hell my girlfriends start me on 0 and keep giving me points as we go along. My whole existence focuses on trying to make them happy, so I’d hope they think it keeps getting better. But I also know that if I get into the habit of not buying birthday presents, or most recently ‘using her for convenience’, then there’s got to be another counter that goes from 100, downwards, and when it reaches 0 she bails.

Either way, and every smart man should know this, you’re on review. If you care, you’d better not fuck it up.

More Marketing Embarrassments

There was one thing that really sparked me into getting stuck back into this blog, however badly I may be doing right now. While passing through my tube station the other day, I got a rude reminder of possibly the worst advert I’ve seen in a long time. I don’t know what it is about the marketing teams of cellphone providers at the moment, but they’re possibly the worst I’ve ever seen. I don’t actually think I’ve seen an Orange advert that I’ve liked, and for someone that appreciates good work, this could be a problem.

I dated a marketer for a huge international airline, who was very good at her job. She’s one of those people who refer to the airline as ‘her’ airline; some type of protectiveness you only get when you’re passionate about what you do. Work didn’t finish at 5pm for her; it was continuous – all weekend and every evening. She’s over here in London now, and I’ve seen her work popping up around town. She still knows what she’s doing, and I still like her work, but it amazes me the number of people that are happy with the crap work they output.

Take the new T-Mobile advert: stupid advert. Now, the concept may be ok, don’t get me wrong. But what really gets me pissed off about this is that it was blatantly ripped off from a group of people who started doing this originally in New York about 10 years ago, who started doing this with a small group also in a tube station.

What I can’t get my head around is thinking how this came to fruition.

All I can see in my mind is a bunch of smug, stupidly ‘hip’ looking marketers going into a boardroom for a brainstorming session. There’s maybe 7 or 8 of them, big pads with pencils, pizza and beer on the table, lots of ideas flying around. That’s fine, but whoever came up with the idea of spending millions of pounds on copying an idea from a small group from 10 years ago needs to be stabbed in the eye with a rusty spoon. How can you, with such a huge budget, not come up with anything original? How can you be proud of it? How can ‘Marketing Managers’ approve such shit work, and shamelessly plagiarise it? It’s people like that who walk around bragging they made that advert, putting it on their folios without actually crediting the people who came up with the concept. Just thinking about it makes me cringe, and people like that make me sad to be a creative. If I had to pick some people to be fucked over by the credit crunch and lose their jobs, they’re pretty close to the top of the list.

So, I hear you ask, what could be better? What else could they do? Well, interestingly, the more recent Cadbury adverts have caused a huge stir, for what would be a faction of the cost. The three that pop into my minds are the drumming gorilla, airport race and the kids with the dancing eyebrows. Although not really related to chocolate in any way, at least the ideas and concepts are new (get that you dorky marketers? NEW), and the fact that they’re a bit zany get people talking. I’ve discussed these adverts heaps over the past 6 months with lots of people, which surely is the point. They’re not exactly rocket science; even T-Mobile marketers can do it, but it’s the creative process and doing something new and exciting that get other people into it. (My fav is the airport race, since you ask).

Anyway, whatever, but I’m just disappointed really. I kind of want everyone to know who really came up with that idea so T-Mobile get a swift kick in the ass for being so slack. I think that these days there should be no place for crap creative development like that (well, development indicates they actually DID something, which they didn’t); it cheapens our day-to-day lives.

God I’m miserable. Sorry.

Kaskade and Wine

This, my friends, is the way to get work done. If you're ever stuck for inspiration, slap on a good Kaskade CD and drink some wine.

Your clients will thank you for it.

What a whiny bunch of pricks!

My brother sent me a link the other day to a, somewhat refreshingly, short and concise blog post highlighting the design process of one of Apple’s Senior Engineering Managers. And I must say, like most things Apple, it’s very interesting.

I’m in software development myself, you see. I work a 40 hour week (“Wow! Good for you!”), but I also have a need to create and do stuff outside of that. I’m always building Windows applications, and websites for clients or myself, so I know the development process quite well. To add to this, in the last 6 months I’ve become a lead developer, and have a bunch of crackin’ guys that has identified in me a severe (see: complete) lack of any leadership qualities: morale, direction, project management, time management etc., so any chance I can get to improve on these things are most welcome.

(Additionally, and quite to the side, the brother who sent me this does some work with me also - or I with him, whichever way makes him the more important and knowledgeable of us two – and I see a few of these ideas having come out in the work we’ve done, which is quite a surprise.)

I’m also a stickler for learning. Like most intelligent people, I very much enjoy Discovery and Nat Geo channels. In the words of Will Smith: "that shit’s got me!"* I can quite happily piss away an entire day watching that stuff. So when given the chance to learn about how THE greatest design company in the world does their thing, I lap it up. Makes sense, right? Not to these dorks:

Chris Blow [what an unfortunate, but quite seismic ally ironic last name] comments:
'"a huge amount of work and takes an enormous amount of time."
Oh, right, that always helps!'

TorG:
'Linking everything back to itself is STUPID.
Only MORONs do that'

Turk Backman:
'To summarize:
1. Design
2. Mock-up
3. Present ideas to management
Very original.'

And Mr. Wrong [what?]:
'1. Find a bunch of 1960's Braun products
2. Copy them'

I’m befuddled. Totally. Thank god (note the non-capital letter there) there were some serious people who actually read the comments and pathways for what they are. No-one is expecting the steps to work for each and every situation, but at least learning how other people do things, successfully I might add, is an interesting read. It always amuse me how people argue (read: make complete dicks of themselves) Apple have done it wrong.

Clearly, none of these people have actually ever lead a team of any sort. Apart from maybe their family. God help them.

* 10 points for which movie that quote came from.

Definition of Personal Space

Maybe the name of this post is misleading. I wasn’t actually going to discuss the definition of personal space, just talk about some guy who invaded mine. But since you ask, and after I was in the line at the bank with this guy behind me a few minutes ago, my definition would be:

“If you’re close enough for me to hit you, then you’re in my personal space. And I’m probably going to hit you.”

Clearly, this doesn’t always work. There’re times and places (read: on the Tube) where you can’t reasonably expect people to keep their distance, but in a bank line? I can tell you there was no need for it, and the fact that he was pacing just behind me, talking on the phone using his ‘outside voice’ very close to my ear was quite enough to piss me off.

It could be a social thing. This guy was clearly of Asian descent, and I’ve been told more than once that the Chinese have a different view on personal space to westerners. That is to say, the wrong view when you’re living in central London.

Or maybe it’s my view that is wrong. That’s the first and last time you’ll hear me say that.

There’s not really a God. I don’t think.

I’m an atheist. At least I think I am. The definition of one is pretty non-conclusive according to Wikipedia. Anyway, my view is thus. As a scientist, I can’t really find it possible to believe in something without some type of proof. We can argue what constitutes proof until the cows come home (that’s definitely a kiwi saying, isn’t it?), but as it stands, “God” exists about as much as perpetual motion, and I feel about it the same way. It’d pretty much be the solution to every problem on Earth, but it just isn’t true.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve nothing against those who do believe. The simple fact that they can put their lives in the hands of someone or something they’re not sure can help them shows they’re all very courageous. It’s quite admirable. Or that they’re stupid. Either way, it’s not my place to say. Actually it is. Idiots. Almost all of them. (Look, that was a joke, for all you overly sensitive religious types.)

But every now and then, and we all get that feeling, there has to be at least something. I’ve got this thing, you see. About money. I’ve never been the smartest with it: buying things I don’t need and spending way too much on stuff I can’t afford. My apartment? After rent, council tax, internet, and phone, I start the month about 76 pounds down. Then, I insist on buying terrible food that not only tastes bad, but it’s fatty. I can do myself two favours in one by taking my own food to work but I’m just too lazy. Add the gym, gadgets, mobile costs, travel, beer (of course) and by next payday, I’m on the phone to my bank manager.

The strange thing is, whenever I’m REALLY hard up for cash, something always comes through. Always. I checked my balance today, and not surprisingly, it’s in single digits. And I don’t mean pounds; I mean single digit pennies.

Tough times.

But this evening, another job comes through, and my dad reminds me that he owes me some cash for one of the 1,500 websites I’ve made for him.

Great timing. God? I don’t know. But it’s always weird, and fun, to at least consider it. It’s the least you can do.