Behind the sofa

Doctor Who SCARED me tonight! Seriously, the bit where he blinks and the thing's suddenly about an inch away from his face, I squealed out loud. It was great! I don't think I've actually done that because of something I've seen on Doctor Who before, ever.

Anyway, it's time for another entertaining tale of the memory man who forgets things. You know I said yesterday that I didn't have any plans for the weekend? Well, actually, I had agreed to have lunch with Vicky and her great-aunt and uncle, and to bring Grandma along with me. But having agreed to do that, about a fortnight ago, the whole thing dropped out of my brain completely until Vicky sent me an email roughly an hour before we were supposed to meet up. Still, it was fun. But I really need to work on how to remember things other than playing cards.

Hooray, it's the weekend!

And while that might seem like an unusual sentiment from someone who doesn't work for a living, I've rediscovered the weekend feeling. I've been itching to do an hour cards and hour numbers practice, and I can't do it on weekdays, because I have agencies possibly phoning with exciting job prospects and things like that. And in the evenings there's things on telly or people to talk to and it's not really possible to set aside three hours at a time. But it's the weekend tomorrow, and one of those rare weekends when I'm not doing anything at all, so I can unplug that dratted phone and sit down staring at numbers and cards to my heart's content!

You know, sometimes, when I think about it, I think I might actually be a total sad case.

It's not just my blood group, it's my motto

My blood group, as I found out after my recent blood-donating episode, is B-positive. This is quite groovy, because it's rather uncommon, yet still allows me to get transfusions from about half the population if I'm ever running short. And, according to Wikipedia at least, the Japanese blood type theory of personality reckons that makes me creative, passionate, animal loving, optimistic, flexible and individualistic, if also forgetful, irresponsible, and self-centered. That's by far the coolest of the four possibilities listed there! I've always known I've got the soul of a hippy trapped in the body of an accountant (I'm a free spirit who charges £12 an hour), and this just PROVES it! I believe in this whole blood group personality thing with all my little heart, and I'm not even discouraged by the way that article suggests Mick Jagger is cool, controlled, rational, introverted and empathic.

I would also like to believe in horoscopes, but they never seem to say anything fun is going to happen to me. I read the ones in the Metro whenever I'm going somewhere on the train, and they're always good. There was a period last year when the stars were apparently urging all twelve signs of the zodiac to cheat on their loved ones, which makes me wonder what was going through the head of the paper's resident oracle. They also have a tendency to write things like "bosses are in a bad mood today, so you should keep your head down at work." Do the movements of the planets also predict the fortunes of bosses of Libras? I ask you. If I wasn't so enormously trusting and credulous, I wouldn't believe a word of it.

An epic, did I say?

The main reason I haven't written any huge long blog entries just lately is that there hasn't really been a great deal happening to me. I'm annoyed by how long it's taking to find a new job. I've got enough time and money to be able to pick and choose, but that's the kind of logic that only applies if there's job offers to pick and choose from. And to be honest, I seem to be having trouble even getting interviews for the good jobs.

I'm quite offended. Although I don't like to admit it in case people think I'm cool, I am in all honesty a darn good accountant. I know how many beans make five. I know how to present the information in such a way that it makes five beans look like a really good thing. I can tell other people when and how to go and count the beans. Admittedly I've spent the last six months indulging myself and my weird hobbies rather than diligently crunching numbers, but lots of cool people take career breaks nowadays. It's positively fashionable.

Someone give me a job! I need something to complain about!

What? No, of course I didn't forget. Don't be silly.

Wow, it's three minutes past midnight, I was about to go to bed after staying up late chatting on the internet and I realised I hadn't written my blog yet. This is a shocking memory lapse. I don't mind forgetting the important things in life, like names and appointments and things, but I pride myself on remembering stupid things like long numbers, packs of cards and writing my blog every night.

Well, I've written something now, at least. I seem to be slacking off with the big long blog entries just lately. I'll write a real epic tomorrow. Well, today I suppose. It's past my bedtime...

I'll Be Back

"The Terminator" is on Channel 5 tonight, and I feel like I probably should stay up to watch it. I've never seen it before, and it's one of those films that people just assume everyone has seen, and make reference to in everyday conversation. I lose count of the times someone has said to me "it's like that bit in The Terminator where..." or something along those lines. It must have happened to me at least once. And it is supposed to be a genuinely good film. On the other hand, I can't be bothered to watch it, especially with adverts in the middle. It's already on the list of films I should get the DVD of some day. Quite a big list, that one, but I'll get round to them when I'm old and retired and have nothing better to do with my life. Although it won't be DVDs then, it'll be space holograms.

Prohibition

Alcohol should be banned. No, not alcohol. Hangovers. The alcohol bit is fine. I was out drinking with my brother last night, and I haven't entirely recovered from it yet. I sometimes get the feeling I can't keep up with the young folk any more...

Anyway, I did manage to play in an othello tournament on kurnik today, and did no worse than usual. I seem to be drawing a lot of games in kurnik tournaments lately - two games out of eleven in each of the last two I've played in. I'm not sure if that means I and my opponents are playing perfectly or whether it's just random chance. I choose to believe in the perfect-play option. Sorry if this isn't entirely fascinating, but as I mentioned, I'm not in the best of shape today. Normal bloggery will be resumed tomorrow.

Whoops

Just remembered I'm going out tonight and staying over in Nottingham and I was meaning to write a blog entry this afternoon instead of this evening, but now it's time I was leaving the house and I haven't written one yet, so I'll just have to not write anything today. Except this, obviously, but this doesn't count. Pretend you didn't see it.

Connect-i-cut

While picking up books in my bedroom the other day, I found my atlas. I'd quite forgotten I owned one. I suppose not many people use them, nowadays, seeing as you can find all the maps you want on the internet. Life was more fun when you needed to look things up in books, I'm sure. Still, it came in handy today when talking to an American friend who lives in Connecticut. It occurred to me that I hadn't got the faintest idea where in the USA Connecticut is. North or south? East, west or middle? Not a clue. It took some finding, actually - I had no idea it was so small and tucked away in the top right corner there. Or that it's practically next door to New York. I'm quite shockingly ignorant when it comes to the geography of other countries. I also thought Delaware was one of the big square ones in the west or middle bits, but it turns out it isn't. I've never encountered, or as far as I know even heard of, anyone from Delaware. I need to go there and make friends.

Of course, while my atlas is fine for learning about the USA, I need to be a bit more careful with some other parts of the world. My atlas was published in 1987, and it still thinks there's a USSR, and East and West Germany. It's a useful historical artifact, actually - did you know Walvis Bay in Namibia was part of South Africa until 1992? Well, you probably either did know that or had no reason to need to know that, but it's something I only learned today after studying an outdated atlas and checking up on the internet. Learning is cool. Now I'm going to go and watch football for two hours and forget everything I've learned.

June?

This month has gone really quickly. The other day I was filling in a form and asked what the date was, thinking it was either the 25th or 26th, and it turned out that it was the 29th. I really need to get a job. I'm normally only one day out in my mental reckoning when I've got a job.

I'd also like to get a job sorted out quickly so I know whether I can go to Munich for the South German memory championship on June 24th. It's only a tiny little competition, what they call a 'regional standard', with just seven quick disciplines, but I've never done one before, and it fits in with the pattern of gradually working up to the world championship with increasingly taxing competitions (the British championship on July 14th, then the German on the 27-28th). I'm really in the mood to compete at the moment, I can't wait to get back into the memory championship routine. And I want to do well in a competition in Germany for once. Not counting the World Cup or Speed Cards Challenge, but every time I've gone there for a normal competition, I've done really badly. I think it's a curse.

I've bought a bookcase

Now I just need to put it together, pick up all my books and arrange them neatly on it. Sigh. I've had a flat-packed bookcase making my bedroom look even more untidy for the last couple of days. It doesn't seem fair that getting part of the way through tidying the place up only makes it worse than ever. There must be some fundamental flaw with the laws of the universe.

But apart from that, I'm feeling productive today, just because I had a big long interview with Hays Accountancy Personnel, who seem much more useful than the other agencies and likely to find me a good job some time soon. I have mixed feelings about returning to working life. On the one hand, it'll be great, because for some reason I think I'll be all the more disciplined when it comes to memory training and things if I have to schedule it around my work. I can go back to my old routine of doing an hour or so in the evenings when I get home, and longer sessions at the weekends. Whereas now, I can't do much during the daytime because I can't really unplug my phone while I'm at least technically looking for work. Not without feeling guilty, anyway. On the other hand, I've really got used to staying in bed till lunchtime whenever I feel like it.

Chewing gum for the eyes

One thing I forgot to mention yesterday after lifting my ban on showing off is that my Current TV 'pod' (that's what they call them. It's not my fault if no normal channels want to show programmes about me) is now available on the internet for anyone to see. Just click here. At least, that works in the UK and Ireland, I can't promise anything for the rest of the world. Search your local Current TV website and see what comes up, Americans.

And for those of you who want to watch something a little more worthwhile, I thought I'd do something a bit different tonight and, rather than thinking of something to write about, post a few YouTube videos I love. Hey, I do this very, very rarely, and normally this blog is cool and different. Besides, you can't deny this is a lot more entertaining than my normal posts.

Here's a very young Bob Dylan singing "Mr Tambourine Man" live at a folk festival in 1964. Absolutely wonderful.


KT Tunstall doing "Black Horse and the Cherry Tree", doing all the percussion and backing vocals herself by means of a foot-operated tape-looping device.


Give your inner hippy a treat with Devendra Banhart and "Little Yellow Spider"


You can't watch this and not cry. The Muppets sing "Just One Person" in tribute to Jim Henson.


Okay, that's got them out of my system (and hopefully into your brains forever). Normal service will be resumed tomorrow.

Mass mouse murder

Sniffles is dead. In fact, there turned out to be two of them, but Deutero-Sniffles is also dead. Thanks for all the advice on how to humanely get rid of mice, but in the end, killing the little blighters turned out to be easier and not particularly troubling to the conscience. But today I banged my foot on my scanner and hurt my toe tremendously, which I assume is my punishment for being so evil.

Anyway, it must be roughly a week since I decided not to post anything here that sounded remotely boastful. I got 4320 in a 30-minute binary practice the other day, which I'm fairly certain is a personal best. Which raises an interesting thing about the way I memorise - with binary digits, I look at them twice. I go through a full journey (780 digits), revise it, then move onto the next, and keep going that way until I run out of time. Doing it my new, slightly-slower-but-much-better-recall way, I get up to about 5000 digits, a bit short of seven journeys' worth.

With decimal numbers, though, I go through a journey rather quicker - I see the image immediately when I look at the three digits, whereas with binary it takes longer, I can't see a group of ten in one glance. But this also seems to hinder my memorising, and if I try to do a 30-minute numbers only looking at them twice, it just doesn't work. I can do 8 and a bit journeys in 30 minutes, but have a huge number of gaps in the recall. I need to look at everything three times to recall it properly.

All of which is just fascinating, of course, but it doesn't really give me any pointers on how to get better. I suppose I'll just go on doing things the way I always have, making it up as I go along.

The joke only works with a Scottish accent

I've cleaned up my living room a bit. It occurred to me that having the floor knee-deep in books and papers and magazines and comics and things might make the place seem like a paradise to small rodents looking for a new home. I've even made a start on the bedroom, where I haven't seen the carpet for years because of the books all over it. Trouble with that is, I've got nowhere to put them if I do pick them up and arrange them nicely. So I've decided to do what normal people do, and get a bookcase. Maybe even a pair of bookcases, one on top of the other. I've got a high ceiling and own a stepladder, and I have got rather a lot of books.

It just worries me that keeping my books in a bookcase is so desperately conventional. I'd hate to turn my flat into a place just like any other. After all, if I pick up the books, I'll have to do the same with the clothes that cover the rest of the bedroom floor, and maybe find somewhere to put them too (I do own a wardrobe and cupboard, but they house my comic collection). And then what will distract people from the fact that I haven't used the vacuum cleaner or washed my bedsheets in about six months?

Mouse 1, trap 0

I set a trap last night for the mouse in my house, who I've decided to call Sniffles so that I feel even more guilty about killing him, but he not only ate the peanut butter without getting squished, but managed to break the trap so that it can't be set again. I'm dealing with a super-genius rodent here. But I've got another one now, and baited it with chocolate (and I tell you, giving up a bit of my Yorkie is a major sacrifice for me). And if that fails, I've got "Rodine mouse & rat killer", which I assume is what the cool kids are calling rat poison these days. There's a drawing on the front of a seriously evil-looking mouse and rat. But I'm reluctant to use this because it says on the back that "rats normally die within a week of eating Rodine, mice may take a little longer." Seriously, what kind of puny poison is this? Mice only live a year or so anyway, does this stuff actually do anything or are they just hedging their bets that it'll die of natural causes within a couple of weeks of eating it? And slowly poisoning poor little Sniffles is even more cruel and heartless than setting a trap to hopefully kill him quickly.

You know, I'm going off this whole mouse-killing idea. Maybe I'll get rid of the trap and just leave him alone.

Sword of Omens, give me sight beyond sight!

What I would really like to blog tonight is to quote my brother at length on the subject of comparing a 1980s episode of Thundercats to current real-world events, but I should probably ask his permission first, so I'll leave that for another day. Besides, it probably wouldn't be as interesting to someone not as familiar with the Thundercats cartoon series as the two of us. And there isn't anyone in the world who is. We both know every episode forwards and backwards, and have spent the past twenty years discussing every little detail of it. It's one of my many obsessions in life, and one thing I've been meaning to do for ages is to produce an exhaustive review and analysis of every episode for the entertainment of Thunder-fans worldwide. The recent release of the first 33 episodes on DVD must have reawoken a lot of people's interest in the cartoon, after all.

I envisage a new blogger page, updating daily with a new episode, detailing the latest exciting adventure of our heroes, and highlighting the good and terrible lines of dialogue, the bizarre idiosyncracies of individual writers, discussion of the many plot holes and artistic errors, all that kind of thing. I could write ten thousand words on each episode, easily, off the top of my head, and I'm sure there must be a few people out there who'd like to read it. It's just a matter of getting round to it...

I need more practice at going to interviews

I had an interview today for a job that I really didn't want, because it doesn't sound very exciting, it's a six-month temp contract, it doesn't pay enormously well and because it's in the quite literal middle of nowhere - the Denby Hall business park, near the tiny village of Denby, about ten miles away from here. Still, I decided to go along for the interview because I thought I could do with the practice. I worked out that the best way to get there would be to take my bike on the train to Belper and then cycle the three or four miles to the building. The interview wasn't till ten, but that left me having to get the 8:27 train, because they only stop at Belper every couple of hours.

Got to the station in plenty of time, bought my ticket, then realised I'd forgotten to bring my watch with me. This was going to make it difficult to arrive at the interview at the right kind of time, but I didn't have time to go home for it, so I decided to work something out when I got to Belper. Sat on the platform, reading the Metro newspaper, I looked up at the clock and noticed it was 8:27 and a half. 'Typical,' I thought, 'train's late as usual.' I got up and looked down the platform to see if it was coming yet, just in time to see it leaving. I was sitting on platform 6a, it was on platform 6b.

Faced with a choice between calling them to explain that I couldn't come to the interview because I'm too stupid to catch a train, or finding another way to get there, I went for option 2. 'You know,' I thought to myself, 'I can cycle ten miles in an hour and a half. Easily. I used to do it on a daily basis when I was living back in Tumby Woodside. And while I don't know the way as such, Derbyshire has what's supposed to be a very nice network of cycle paths going all around the county, with those little blue signposts showing the way. It'll be easy!'

And so I cheerfully set off on my way. And yes, it's very easy to find your way around Derbyshire by bike if you can just read signposts. Sure enough, having gone through Little Eaton and out the other side, I saw a sign saying to turn right for Denby. A couple of right turns later and I was thinking 'Something's wrong here. Firstly I'm going back the way I came, and secondly I'm on the dual carriageway. Ah well, if I keep going down here presumably I'll come to a turning for Denby. That's what the sign said, after all.'

Some distance later, I saw another road sign and realised the problem. The sign I thought said "Denby", actually said "Derby". You know, the big city where I live and the place I was coming from in the first place. It hadn't occurred to me that they're only one letter different. And the two letters in question are very similar in appearance, and if you think you're going to see a sign for Denby, it's only natural that you... yeah, I'm just extremely stupid.

Anyway, I eventually found my way off the dual carriageway, turned round and went back the way I came, and found my way to the interview at what was probably around ten o'clock (I hadn't thought to go home for my watch before setting off). The interview went well enough, although the man interviewing me thought I was hugely overqualified for the job, and although I tried not to agree with him for the sake of a bit of interview practice, he was entirely right. I need to talk to the woman from the agency - although I always say I don't care about career progression and things, I find that I do take exception to being put forward for what was basically an accounts assistant position. Maybe I am a dynamic go-getter yuppie, after all.

And since it was a nice day, I decided to cycle all the way back too, rather than getting some use out of my Belper train ticket. And I hardly got lost at all! And, to put it as politely as I know how, my bum didn't half hurt by the time I got home. I should go for long bike rides more often, it's fun.

Thomas! There's a mouse in the house!

Well, I declare. Heard a rustling noise in a pile of old papers and things, and saw a little mouse scamper out and disappear into the hole in the cupboard under the sink. I suppose I should do something about it, but the idea of setting a trap to kill something doesn't appeal to me hugely. My natural inclination is to let him get on with things and not disturb him, but then I suppose he might tell all his friends that I'm a soft touch, and the place will be overrun with vermin. The cartoony thing to do is to get a cat, of course, and set in motion a chain of events that will lead to the whole house being blown up by big red sticks of TNT while I stand on a chair screaming and lifting up my skirt.

I don't know why a mouse would come all the way up to my first floor flat, just to scuttle across the floor, however unhygenic and doubtless full of bits of food down the back of the cooker and so on my place may be. You'd think he would have found a place that's more convenient for the shops (it's a long way if you've got little legs, and the stairs are quite steep).

Because I banned myself from talking about the Guardian interview

Here's a comic for you. This is the second in my series of forcing-myself-to-draw-and-not-care-how-bad-it-looks comics - you can perhaps understand how bad the first one was if I tell you that this one is so very much better that I think it's absolutely brilliant in comparison. Of course, since you don't get to see the first one (my ego just won't permit it), you'll just see this and think "wow, he really can't draw." But I have been told that the child-like artwork just adds to the humour, so I'm going to pretend it looks like this deliberately.

Or if you don't like that, and because I haven't written anything silly for much too long and the following conversation is going through my head:

"Good morning. I represent the estate of your late uncle. My condolences on his recent death."

"I haven't got an uncle, dead or otherwise."

"Your aunt was secretly married to a man whose existence she concealed from the rest of her family due to his unsavoury reputation. This man is now deceased. My condolences."

"I also haven't got an aunt. Both my parents were only children."

"Your mother in fact had an identical twin sister from whom she was separated at birth without her knowledge. This sister is also now deceased. My condolences."

"I have video footage of my mother's birth. She couldn't have had a twin sister."

"The woman you know as your mother did not in fact give birth to you. Your biological mother was another woman who chose not to raise a child, preferring to live a life of carefree abandon and disregard for society. This woman is also now deceased. My condolences."

"Well... did any of these people leave me anything in their wills?"

"They did not. Good day."

He's the memory man

I feel that there's been too much about me in this blog lately, and not enough stories about a man who believes he's a branch of Woolworth's, but having written the latter and decided it wasn't funny, all I have left to talk about is my bit on Current TV. I saw it today for the first time - motivated by a commenter the other day who had not only seen it, but checked out my blog because of it, I thought I should really know what it was like so I can know what kind of thing all these new readers will be expecting. As luck would have it, I looked myself up on their website and found that I was on in five minutes' time. And it's actually rather fun! I'd recommend it to anyone who isn't appalled by the way my voice sounds on tape! I come across as a nerd, but in a funny kind of way. You get to see my living room, my cuddly toys, my video collection, my trophy collection (a great moment with me staring at one and, quite genuinely, saying "I can't remember what this one's for, actually...") and edited highlights of me memorising and recalling a pack of cards.

I don't know when it's next on - check out the website here or this might work better if you're American. It's one of those websites that redirects you according to what country you're in, so both of those might work for you wherever you are.

I hereby resolve not to do any more blog posts for at least a week on the subject of me showing off about my TV career, my othello talents, my memory records, my devastating good looks (I do look rather good on the Current thing, actually) or anything else.