Doctor and Jim, right again

My parents spent a good portion of their spare time telling me how to be nice to people and how to get my shit together. It’s no doubt I wouldn’t be where I am now if it weren’t for Doctor Shaz and the Jimster. Shaz stands for Sharyn and she’s almost done with her PHD in Psychology, hence the Doctor prefix. Jim was just called Jim one day 10 years ago when I was shooting my mouth off and it seems to have stuck. All the kids in the family refer to him as Jim. Strange how those things stick. I did realise only in the last year or two his middle name was James, but the Jim thing isn’t short for his middle name.

Anyway, all their hard work seems to have paid off to some degree. I’m very nice to people (well, most people except those who cross me or don’t put effort into what they do), but I’m still too lazy to get my shit together. I’ll get a job one of these days.

One thing they used to say to me is that no matter what happens, I’ll go to University and I will complete my degree. I never really expected it to happen, but as usual, the Doc and Jim were right and I owe everything I have to them. They used to say to me, “if you don’t go to University, you’ll end up cleaning toilets or working in a factory.” That always scared me into doing what I had to do to get a C- and finish up.

I recall this because on the TV I’m watching during the day instead of looking for jobs is a show called “how it’s made”, which documents the creation of everyday objects like lightbulbs or cars or wine glasses. It’s interesting stuff but every time I watch it, I see some person who spends 8 hours a day screwing in 3 screws on a TV or some equally excruciatingly repetitive process, and every time I think “you sad bastard”. Just today, I saw the guy who cuts a long line of robot-made icecream cakes into 1 foot lengths. 8 hours of that? I’d turn the knife against myself. Anyway, I guess I’m lucky I actually have the skills to design the software that runs the robots that makes the DVD player.

It could be worse.

I could be sitting in someone else’s living room watching repetitive TV shows during the day.

Oh shit.

(no title)

Hi everyone. Sorry I’ve not updated my blog in a while. It’s not as though I’m busy. I feel like a bit of a dork (moreso than usual), because I’m halfway around the world in a city that I like quite a bit but can’t find the energy or inspiration to go explore lots. The apartment is just over the (small) harbour from downtown Vancouver, so I’ve been over there a few times looking around. They have the Pacific Mall there which makes any New Zealand mall look like a corner dairy and a billion nice big shops with surprisingly affordable clothes.

The Canadian people are all nice, easy-going types. One thing I’ve noticed since I’ve been here is everyone hands in the keys to their gay Japanese cars and replaces them with redneck trucks. I mean fuck, there are some big machines driving around here (1), but everyone drives nicely. People let other people go in front of them, no-one is in a rush and no-one speeds. The centre of town isn’t full with faggots who wear jeans 7 sizes too big and listen to their stereo on 22553% volume, everyone just keeps to themselves and gets on with their daily rituals. I like it here.

Anyhoo, I’m not here to explore. I explored last time I was here and now it’s mostly work-time. My brother and I are finishing up on our project we’ve been working two years on and it’s getting really REALLY close to being done. Hopefully we’ll have something to show by the end of this next week. We’ll see.

All else is good. 10 more days here and I’m off to London. Pics soon.

(1) This reminds me of this time last year when I was here. We spent 2 weeks in Whistler and then 2 weeks in Banff, and while we were hangin’ out in Banff we spotted a huge truck that was 5 feet off the ground. Under the differential (it’s a car term for between the back wheels) were hanging two big fake plastic balls. Like bull testicles. Very funny.

'Couver

In Vancouver now. Flight wasn't as great as I was expecting. Last time I came out here I managed to get a nice 8 hours on the plane but this time I just couldn't seem to make it happen. Stupid sleep *angry face*

My plane was delayed in LA about 3 hours so that left me hanging around tired as **** for my plane to arrive. Luckily I slept another 2 hours on the flight from LA to YVR and then another 14 hours when I got there. 14 hours? I've never done that before :|

Anyhoo, it's much colder here than at home which was a suprise, but I sleep much better. I went out exploring (and in the 5 hours of walking I saw two people fall over on the sidewalk and nail themselves). Maybe Canadians have trouble walking :| Crazy Canadians.

Man, what a boring post. Hopefully I'm not this boring to talk to *sigh*

Nice 'n' Urlich

Most of you won't know who they are, but for the few that do, we went to their most recent party. They're a couple of guys who used to do a show on a student radio station a few years ago, and they've now got quite a following. Their main focus is on club and happy house, and they know how to entertain a crowd.

Anyhoo, they're still around, doing their own shows on a radio station (www.georgefm.co.nz) on the NZ weekday mornings.

I remember when I was in my last year of school before university and coming across their show one saturday. I've been listening to them ever since and I'll never miss a party if they have one. This time, they had it at the stonyridge vineyard on waiheke and it was almost without a doubt the greatest night of my life. I went with a couple of friends and made a few more there, and drunk lots of wine. See the pics.

The Game

The sound of friends enjoying themselves in the background. Playing soccer, calling for the ball, cheering at a good shot. I’m lying on the slope just behind the field chilling out and catching my breath after 90 minutes of exercise; I’m getting lazy, my tackles are getting careless and people are kicking the ball hard at nothing because they’re getting bored.

As I lie back, I can see the trees on the hill in the background, the light of the 8pm setting sun working its way to the top of them. All of a sudden, music from the temporary stage they're building a few hundred metres away bump out one of those classic tunes from the ’30s with some guy singing slowly:

“I know what I like, and I like what I see,
I know that you are good for me”

A boy runs past with a model plane in his hand. Truly surreal, and I’ve not felt this happy for a long time. My mind goes back to the weekend a few days ago and the girl I spent it with; I’m a happy man. Luckily I didn’t remember that it’s quite likely I wouldn’t see this scene again as it’s not long before I leave this country, friends and nature indefinitely. It’s quite a depressing thought. I’m still here though, and I’ve got a big weekend planned. I’ll let you know.

And, my posts will actually become interesting once I start travelling. I suck at writing.

Horray!!! I've got manliness!

Bree says:
"Aw Dan, you're the biggest sweety and I totally love how your sweetness is all bundled up in manliness :)

You can play on my team anytime.
B"

Please note, she means play soccer on her team, not play for "her team", if you know what I mean.

Sweetness? WTF is she on about??!

Bye Al & Jess (October '06)

I know, I know, these pics are a bit late, but whatever. We had a big going away party for Al (Jess was already in the 'States), but also had a BBQ for Jess leaving at my place.

These kids just got married a couple of days ago; wish I was there :(

Quote of the month

"I sometimes wonder if God will ever forgive us for what we've done to each other, but then I remember God left this place a long, long time ago."

- Danny Archer,
Blood Diamond

A cocktail party was attended.

This was last year, but great fun. Here is a pic.

Stickin’ it to The Man

Screw workin’ for the man, I say. Many people don’t mind. It’s great for some to get up at whatever time, get to work at half 8 (half 7 for you Dutchies), and clock out at five. Live is sweet. Get home, the lady cooks you a meal if you’re lucky (or you get takeaways if you’re not) and shut the brain off for the duration. The weekend? Get your kite out and go boarding at the beach or hang out with The Team. Some people don’t mind. But if you know me, I’m motivated by cash.

I love to have the dollar, mostly because I spend it too fast. I’ve already selected what cars will be in the garage in a couple of years, so now I just have to make the money. Retired at 30, that’s what I say, but there’s one thing I need to sort before achieving said goal, and that’s charging people what I’m worth.

It’s been a problem for me ever since I started working part-time on my own company with a few mates. Not having a portfolio, it’s hard to walk into your client’s office and expect them to fork over the 5k their website is worth.

I guess a few things have changed since those university days. Now, I have a portfolio that is intimidating for most other web and software developers to look at. I can boast my own custom website design software (that is popular with those who learn to use it), and can build a sexy website in a fraction of time it takes other guys. Not only that, now I’m busy enough to turn people down who ask for websites on the cheap. “No deal tiger. Front up with the cash or get a sub-standard website.”

The mum-lady has often criticised my lack of motivation for getting paid what I deserve. She says I’m always selling myself short and I need to toughen up. “Don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, dammit! You’re worth much more than you charge.” I guess it’s true, but for someone that has never done it before and is quite modest with his work, it’s hard to charge lots.

It’s relative, of course. For me, 10 grand is a shitload of money. Lots. So it takes big balls to ask someone else to shovel over that cash for a website that doesn’t take me very long to build. Of course, 10 grand is nothing in the scheme of things, especially for a company with a few employees. And of course, the quality of my website is on par with professional studios that charge 10 times more.