NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! I can't believe they ended the series like that! The 12th season of ER finished last night, with half the main cast either dead, dying, or being held hostage! And then they glibly announced that the new series will begin sometime at the beginning of next year. NEXT YEAR?! What are they trying to do to us?! I'll be in need of psychotherapy by the end of October. I NEED CLOSURE!!!!! AAARRRGGGGHHHHH!!!! Even the 'official' ER website seems to be two entire series behind, and offers no insights into future plot developments at all. What am I supposed to do with myself?
Still, at least the World Cup starts on Friday. That'll do nicely as a distraction. At least, until England get knocked out by Germany in the second round, rendering me even more hysterical than I was to start with. In the meantime, the BBC Sport website is running a highly diverting little competition called Goalfinger. It's a quiz, structured like the World Cup itself, and offers the prospect of tickets to every round of the FA cup next season for the lucky winner. I'm feeling quite smug, having just played the quiz and won the World Cup with Saudi Arabia. Check it out...
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Monday, May 22, 2006
I woke up this morning with a distinctly sort throat. The thing is, I seemed to spend most of the weekend shouting. I was part of the team running Fort Rocky, YFC's weekend residential for 11-14 year olds. It was a whole load of fun, not just for the kids but for the team too. Who cares if it rained non-stop for the whole weekend? There was climbing, a zip wire, loads of food and random games involving mexican secret agents, jam donuts and an inflatable fish. Where else could I get to dress up as a sumo wrestler and get 200 kids to execute a karate chop, while screaming 'ATTAAAAAA!!!!' (Possibly the most politically incorrect thing I've ever done, and almost certainly the reason for me feeling a little hoarse today.) We also saw a bunch of kids become Christians. Blinding weekend.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
I'm actually beginning to enjoy food shopping. I never thought I'd hear myself say that, but it's true. You see, a couple of months ago, Jo and I joined a 'food cooperative' with some of our neighbours. We order a lot of staple foods from an organic supplier, buy in bulk, and get the stuff for wholesale prices. And the beauty of it is, shopping basically consists of sitting in our neighbour's kitchen for 2 hours on a Monday evening, guzzling wine, and picking what we want from a catalogue. Now tell me that doesn't sound better than trudging round Tesco's. You can even get a case of Samuel Smith's Best Organic Ale for less than £20. And very tasty it is, too.
The downside is the buying-in-bulk bit. Usually, it's possible to split an order of, for example, a 20kg bag of chick peas, with another member of the cooperative, but that doesn't always work. Last night, Jo and I ended up ordering 12 tins of chopped tomatoes. Hmmm. Firstly, what are we going to do with them all? (Can I look forward to chopped tomatoes on my organic muesli?) Secondly, where are we going to store the bloody things? For anyone who's read Catch 22, I'm beginning to feel like Milo Minderbinder with his warehouse full of Egyptian cotton.
You also find some slightly off-the-wall items in the catalogue. Tom last night ordered in a job lot of 'Sea Vegetable Rice Cakes'. What on earth is a sea vegetable? Seaweed? Or the salad from an ill-advised late-night kebab, which was chucked into the sea off Brighton pier? And what on earth does one do with a sea vegetable rice cake? 'Do you just eat them on their own?' Helen asked. 'I've got no idea!' Tom replied. An adventurous man. I hope he's got an understanding wife.
The conversation turned to jam. Gina mentioned a friend who makes 'Hedgerow Jam'. Apparently this means scouring the hedges of SE26, making jam from what she finds, and selling it on. But the range of items on display in the hedges of SE26 is quite mind-boggling. Plastic bags, empty Special Brew cans... They'd give the jam an interesting texture. On any given Friday night, it's highly probable to find a courting couple if you look in enough hedges. Not sure I'd want them pureed and spread on my toast. Does seem a harsh punishment even for pre-marital sex.
Really though, I love all this. It's adventurous. It's flicking a big, fat V-sign at evil, nasty multinationals. And it's gloriously English. Where else on earth could you possibly find an arrangement like this?
The downside is the buying-in-bulk bit. Usually, it's possible to split an order of, for example, a 20kg bag of chick peas, with another member of the cooperative, but that doesn't always work. Last night, Jo and I ended up ordering 12 tins of chopped tomatoes. Hmmm. Firstly, what are we going to do with them all? (Can I look forward to chopped tomatoes on my organic muesli?) Secondly, where are we going to store the bloody things? For anyone who's read Catch 22, I'm beginning to feel like Milo Minderbinder with his warehouse full of Egyptian cotton.
You also find some slightly off-the-wall items in the catalogue. Tom last night ordered in a job lot of 'Sea Vegetable Rice Cakes'. What on earth is a sea vegetable? Seaweed? Or the salad from an ill-advised late-night kebab, which was chucked into the sea off Brighton pier? And what on earth does one do with a sea vegetable rice cake? 'Do you just eat them on their own?' Helen asked. 'I've got no idea!' Tom replied. An adventurous man. I hope he's got an understanding wife.
The conversation turned to jam. Gina mentioned a friend who makes 'Hedgerow Jam'. Apparently this means scouring the hedges of SE26, making jam from what she finds, and selling it on. But the range of items on display in the hedges of SE26 is quite mind-boggling. Plastic bags, empty Special Brew cans... They'd give the jam an interesting texture. On any given Friday night, it's highly probable to find a courting couple if you look in enough hedges. Not sure I'd want them pureed and spread on my toast. Does seem a harsh punishment even for pre-marital sex.
Really though, I love all this. It's adventurous. It's flicking a big, fat V-sign at evil, nasty multinationals. And it's gloriously English. Where else on earth could you possibly find an arrangement like this?
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Christians are great. Fantastic people. Really. (I find it immensely frustrating that, even when I'm trying desperately hard to be sincere, I still sound sarcastic.) I genuinely love the church and the people in it. But, they aren't half weird sometimes. Take the church service I went to last Sunday night. An act of worship involving writing down sins and problems in our lives, taking the paper to the front of the hall, and jumping on it. (Apparently to symbolise our having faith to move mountains.) Wandering around the hall while singing, to symbolise 'taking ground'. And a middle-aged woman, who clearly thought she was blessed with a gift for prophetic dancing, and seemed to be miming milking a giant cow, and walking like a velociraptor.
Now, I freely admit that I sometimes have a problem with cynicism. I chose to go along with all of the above, precisely because it's exactly the sort of thing I usually raise a satirical eyebrow at, and that usually helps nobody at all. But my goodness, it's hard not to make snide comments. These people practically take the piss out of themselves; how am I supposed to resist giving them a helping hand in the process? Picture a recovering alcoholic, wandering into a pub, and being surrounded by people chugging down every conceivable alcoholic drink. How easy would it be for this recovering alcoholic to stay dry? Perhaps I'm being melodramatic, but I consider myself a kind of recovering cynic. Middle-aged women dancing like velociraptors are likely to send me off the deep end. I know I need to stay in the metaphorical pub. After all, what's the alternative? But I know I'll need God's help to stay on the wagon.
Now, I freely admit that I sometimes have a problem with cynicism. I chose to go along with all of the above, precisely because it's exactly the sort of thing I usually raise a satirical eyebrow at, and that usually helps nobody at all. But my goodness, it's hard not to make snide comments. These people practically take the piss out of themselves; how am I supposed to resist giving them a helping hand in the process? Picture a recovering alcoholic, wandering into a pub, and being surrounded by people chugging down every conceivable alcoholic drink. How easy would it be for this recovering alcoholic to stay dry? Perhaps I'm being melodramatic, but I consider myself a kind of recovering cynic. Middle-aged women dancing like velociraptors are likely to send me off the deep end. I know I need to stay in the metaphorical pub. After all, what's the alternative? But I know I'll need God's help to stay on the wagon.
Whether or not I've gained a reputation for being a cynic, never let it be said that I'm oblivious to God speaking to me. If you haven't read The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning, you really should. People seem to think that the idea that God loves us is cheesy - almost a truism. We just don't get it. What the book brings across is just how deeply, irrationally and unconditionally God loves us. I'm not even going to attempt to explain it. Just read the book!
Anyway, I was reading The Ragamuffin Gospel over Easter. It was certainly thought-provoking, but I s'pose it didn't really sink in. But on Easter Sunday, some rather strange things happened to me. I was at Spring Harvest, and, in the same evening, the following three events befell me:
1. A guy who I didn't recognise, having already spent the whole day being inexplicably nice to me, insisted on buying me a coffee. It was only when he physically handed the coffee over that I recognised him from my small group in the 11-14s venue at Spring Harvest 4 years ago.
2. A group of girls who I'd spoken to once (maybe twice?) before, gave me a chocolate bar for no accountable reason.
3. A friend of mine came and found me, and gave me a tube of Jaffa Cakes. (Truly the food of the righteous. If there are no Jaffa Cakes in heaven, I'm not going.)
Certainly an unusual chain of events. It was only when I got to bed that night that I realised that through each of these people, God had been clearly illustrating the lessons He'd been teaching me through the book. He just loves me. He wants to bless me and give me great stuff. I've done nothing to deserve that, but He wants to do it anyway. In practical, down-to-earth ways, He'd shown me that. It might sound stupid, but I'm taking great comfort in the knowledge that God knows that I like coffee and Jaffa Cakes.
Anyway, I was reading The Ragamuffin Gospel over Easter. It was certainly thought-provoking, but I s'pose it didn't really sink in. But on Easter Sunday, some rather strange things happened to me. I was at Spring Harvest, and, in the same evening, the following three events befell me:
1. A guy who I didn't recognise, having already spent the whole day being inexplicably nice to me, insisted on buying me a coffee. It was only when he physically handed the coffee over that I recognised him from my small group in the 11-14s venue at Spring Harvest 4 years ago.
2. A group of girls who I'd spoken to once (maybe twice?) before, gave me a chocolate bar for no accountable reason.
3. A friend of mine came and found me, and gave me a tube of Jaffa Cakes. (Truly the food of the righteous. If there are no Jaffa Cakes in heaven, I'm not going.)
Certainly an unusual chain of events. It was only when I got to bed that night that I realised that through each of these people, God had been clearly illustrating the lessons He'd been teaching me through the book. He just loves me. He wants to bless me and give me great stuff. I've done nothing to deserve that, but He wants to do it anyway. In practical, down-to-earth ways, He'd shown me that. It might sound stupid, but I'm taking great comfort in the knowledge that God knows that I like coffee and Jaffa Cakes.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
So America want to tighten their border controls (or more specifically, their border with Mexico,) to prevent a continuing influx of illegal immigrants. Not surprisingly, a lot of people are unhappy about this. Even less surprisingly, a large number of them are Mexican. Read more on today's demonstrations on the BBC website.
What are we to make of this? Are the new border controls a perfectly reasonable measure, to protect America against a large number of people who, let's face it, are trying to take advantage of them? Or is this yet another symptom of America's insularity and suspicion of anything remotely foreign? (I still can't believe that the overwhelming majority of Americans don't even own a passport.) Probably a combination of the two.
What are we to make of this? Are the new border controls a perfectly reasonable measure, to protect America against a large number of people who, let's face it, are trying to take advantage of them? Or is this yet another symptom of America's insularity and suspicion of anything remotely foreign? (I still can't believe that the overwhelming majority of Americans don't even own a passport.) Probably a combination of the two.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
It was a schoolboy error. There's no other way of putting it. I arranged a couple of weeks ago to take a trip to Oldham, in order to meet a contact, with a view to organising a 'Funday' event in the summer. We arranged to meet yesterday, and, not realising exactly how far it is from London to Oldham, I cheerily agreed to meet at 10.30am, and took it for granted that I'd be able to drive there and back in a day. Oh dear. I consulted the oracle over the weekend (AA Routefinder), and was confronted with a 446 mile round trip. That's further than the distance between London and Glasgow.
I was left with a dilemma. Cancelling was out of the question. Getting a train was now also out of the question, as at this notice I'd have had to take out a second mortgage on my flat to buy a ticket. So, I just had to bite the bullet and drive. But, should I phone this contact of mine and ask to meet later, thus eliminating the need to leave home at 5.30am? Or should I save face, and just go ahead as planned? For me, sleep outweighs personal pride anytime. So I managed to negotiate myself an extra hour. Makes all the difference, and makes me look not-too-stupid. Unfortunately, I was still presented with the prospect of ten hours in the car. Incredibly bad for my posture. Still, at least I had plenty of time to listen to Radio 1, immerse myself in youth culture, and surprise myself with how much of the current chart music I actually like. Old fogey? Moi?
I was left with a dilemma. Cancelling was out of the question. Getting a train was now also out of the question, as at this notice I'd have had to take out a second mortgage on my flat to buy a ticket. So, I just had to bite the bullet and drive. But, should I phone this contact of mine and ask to meet later, thus eliminating the need to leave home at 5.30am? Or should I save face, and just go ahead as planned? For me, sleep outweighs personal pride anytime. So I managed to negotiate myself an extra hour. Makes all the difference, and makes me look not-too-stupid. Unfortunately, I was still presented with the prospect of ten hours in the car. Incredibly bad for my posture. Still, at least I had plenty of time to listen to Radio 1, immerse myself in youth culture, and surprise myself with how much of the current chart music I actually like. Old fogey? Moi?
Sunday, April 02, 2006
OK, this is getting shameful now. Several people have remarked on how slack I've been in keeping my blog even remotely up to date. My excuse is that I've been doing so much writing for work recently, that it's been really hard to motivate myself to blog as well.
But I'm feeling suitably chastened now, particularly after an evening with some friends on Friday, who poured scorn on my blogging credentials. So, here's a quick run down on what I've been doing recently. I've been writing new material for Rock Solid and RS2. By the end of this week, I should have written 12 meeting outlines. Check out the YFC website for more on exactly what Rock Solid and RS2 are. Suffice to say here that I reckon they're about the best resources available to help churches reach 11-14 year-olds. (But then, I s'pose I would say that...)
I've also been writing some meandering thoughts for YPs, the Bible reading notes for younger teenagers. Click here and find 'Insite', to see my online ramblings, but I'm afraid my hard copy material won't be available until September. (This is one of the quirks of my job. Because of the time needed to get material edited, designed, printed and distributed, I have to work months in advance. Last week, I found myself writing an RS2 meeting about Christmas. Weird.)
But I'm feeling suitably chastened now, particularly after an evening with some friends on Friday, who poured scorn on my blogging credentials. So, here's a quick run down on what I've been doing recently. I've been writing new material for Rock Solid and RS2. By the end of this week, I should have written 12 meeting outlines. Check out the YFC website for more on exactly what Rock Solid and RS2 are. Suffice to say here that I reckon they're about the best resources available to help churches reach 11-14 year-olds. (But then, I s'pose I would say that...)
I've also been writing some meandering thoughts for YPs, the Bible reading notes for younger teenagers. Click here and find 'Insite', to see my online ramblings, but I'm afraid my hard copy material won't be available until September. (This is one of the quirks of my job. Because of the time needed to get material edited, designed, printed and distributed, I have to work months in advance. Last week, I found myself writing an RS2 meeting about Christmas. Weird.)
Monday, January 30, 2006
Yes, yes, I know. It's been over a month. I'm afraid Christmas, New Year, a nasty stomach bug (both ends going at once - urgh) , a new job, and the iPod I got for Christmas have all distracted me from the important business of posting my meandering thoughts here for all the world to see.
The latest is, my new job with YFC is going really well. So far, I have endured a gruelling 5 day conference in a luxury hotel in Wales, (being forced to put up with a bedroom with ensuite bathroom, 3 huge meals a day and free use of a swimming, sauna and gym,) a conference in Eastbourne which involved making total strangers roll toilet rolls across the floor with their noses, and countless "meetings", involving cups of coffee and talking about nothing in particular. It's a hard life, this full-time Christian work, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
The mighty Emmanuel Lightning go marching on too. 5 wins from the last 6 matches have put us 4th in the league, and only 3 points off the top. Wonders will never cease. (Frustratingly, while Lightning are doing uncharacteristically well, Arsenal are just about managing to achieve the level of "woeful". The performance against Bolton on Saturday was utterly toe-curling.) Lightning's website isn't anything to write home about, I'm afraid, but click here for the Bromley and Croydon District League. (Yes, we're in the 3rd Division, but hopefully that will soon change...)
The latest is, my new job with YFC is going really well. So far, I have endured a gruelling 5 day conference in a luxury hotel in Wales, (being forced to put up with a bedroom with ensuite bathroom, 3 huge meals a day and free use of a swimming, sauna and gym,) a conference in Eastbourne which involved making total strangers roll toilet rolls across the floor with their noses, and countless "meetings", involving cups of coffee and talking about nothing in particular. It's a hard life, this full-time Christian work, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
The mighty Emmanuel Lightning go marching on too. 5 wins from the last 6 matches have put us 4th in the league, and only 3 points off the top. Wonders will never cease. (Frustratingly, while Lightning are doing uncharacteristically well, Arsenal are just about managing to achieve the level of "woeful". The performance against Bolton on Saturday was utterly toe-curling.) Lightning's website isn't anything to write home about, I'm afraid, but click here for the Bromley and Croydon District League. (Yes, we're in the 3rd Division, but hopefully that will soon change...)
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