I’ve not updated you on the great hair battle for some time, this is probably because I forget about it as its always under a cap nowadays. Hair loss has slowed right down and, importantly, its not because I have run out!
Hair washing is slowing down now, I am still using the mad products but starting to allow my hair to get dirty before its washed. Those of you that know me will know that I am not a great fan of hair washing and have traditionally considered that getting my hair wet suffices.
I have a way to go but I do believe I am starting to edge back into man world, I am starting to edge away from the mad hair products isle. Now ladies its been a blast, hell it may even have been educational and I thank you for your support, your advice and for opening the door to your mad world, even if it was just a crack.
I have tried to engage with your bojo berries, your pre conditioner, plant essences, syrups and serums but I am afraid I’m just not equipped for those aisles in the chemist. There’s no logic to the potions, the colour code used on the bottles is meaningless and serves only to confuse, it really is all some sort of weird alternative language.
I thought that as an Engineer who understands the complexities of the world around us I could decode the thousands of products available for hair care, or at least find a path through it. The truth is that I am no wiser, no less challenged by the hair product isle than I was before the accident. I don’t slowly browse the aisle in the chemists like the girls whose natural environment it is, I still charge in select the product I want and exit without pause. Its not just because of the funny looks from the security guard that I treat shampoo purchase like a ram raid I am genuinely intimidated by the rows and rows of products, this from a man that is happy ordering food from a menu in a foreign language that he doesn’t understand.
You can keep your hair care regimes, your scary product isle and the unintelligible language that you have developed to explain this madness, I shall back slowly towards the door clasping a bottle of shower gel.
I have worked away from home for years so hotels are my home and sometimes things remind me that this is not the way that everybody else lives their life. There is a small group of us that use the hotel that I am currently using, some are from my company and some work for other companies in the area, we are the true residents of the hotel. Hotel living has taught me how to pack all that I need into a single bag, it has taught me never to worry about locking the door at home or turning the gas off and it has allowed me the luxury of always being a visitor to home. Hotel living is certainly not for everybody but it is for me and when I was stuck at home post accident it all felt very odd.
The thing with being a hotel resident is that you learn the staff and their ways, you learn the odd things about living in a business, because my contracts are long ones you actually watch staff develop. When I returned from the accident the hotel staff had been told about it by my colleagues, each and every one of them has stopped me and had the conversation and when I think about it that is probably more conversations than I have had at home! I get Christmas and Birthday cards from the hotels that I use, I get the gossip on who dislikes who, who pulls their weight and who is leaving. I know every room in a hotel and know which rooms I don’t use because the heating is rubbish or its noisy. I have walked into furniture and doors when my mental map picks up the wrong details in the middle of the night; when the Holiday Inn in Derby gave me odd-numbered rooms repeatedly followed by an even-numbered room I got up to use the toilet in the middle of the night and walked straight into a wall because the room was the other way around.
My memories of events and news are linked to hotels so you know when people say they remember being in the front room when their son took his first steps or their daughter said Dad for the first time? Well I remember being in a hotel in Ballymena for the first and Ballymoney for the second! You may wonder what triggered this random post, well it was talking to the night porter this morning who was recounting the crowd from a training course that were in the bar until 2am. We were debating how these late night drinkers would look in the morning and it occurred to me that they are the target audience of hotels, the sales teams and the course attenders that treat it as a big night out and meet breakfast with a hangover. It is this target audience that leaves rooms trashed because they won’t be remembered, I always leave my room tidy,turn the AC down and open the curtains because over the years I have learnt that the maids like that and let’s be fair they spend more time amongst my possessions than I do. Like some middle class housewife I make sure that I leave the room as clean as I can for the cleaners and that’s because hotels are my home, so when your on a course and get smashed in the evening go quietly past 280 I have an early start.
Having said all of that, I am still looking forward to living above my pub……
I have worked in other industries and I have to say that the Railway is way up there as a unique environment. Having debated Schrödinger’s cat to the point that we all feel that we have a good grasp of the concept of quantum physics we obviously needed another challenge, without something to tax our minds we would drift into pervy Paul’s* Facestalking, teasing the biscuit stacker or competitive networking.
The next challenge came from a surprising source this morning when the delightful Gemma made the statement that oblong was a word that they taught children because rectangle was too difficult. In the first instance it is, of course, obvious that this statement has no grounding in fact but you can’t just say its wrong can you? So we turn to Google and discover that this is in fact a very commonly asked question (especially at school) and there really seems to be no answer. We learnt that the squares are special rectangles but can’t be oblongs and we roughly concluded that an oblong was a rectangle without 4 right angles but it was not easy and was certainly far from conclusive. Astoundingly I called Paul aka Ted who is the font of all knowledge and his first answer was the same as Gemma’s statement, when did we all conclude that rectangle was a difficult word?
Honourable mention today goes to Gems for her valiant attempt to explain how punching me on the arm was beneficial to my health, I think the argument that ‘well you’re doing press ups’ was poor and seemed to present the case that if I was damaging my body then everyone should get a chance.
In other news a wind turbine ‘fell over’ in Devon during high winds, how does that happen? It’s a windmill so why do they not plan for wind? Surely they should have been rubbing their hands together as their windmill generated more power? I am sure that there are some electricity company executives in a bad place today, not only did their windmill fall over but apparently it spun too fast and caught fire on the way, I do believe that they will be having what is termed a ‘titanic moment’.
I have just received my text from the NHS to remind me of my physio appointment tomorrow, because I never remember the appointment card this is a handy little reminder. Tomorrow is apparently a gym session so I am not quite sure what to expect, I think that I shall enquire though as to why I no longer get the hot wax treatment? I had the treatment once and it was amazing the heat gets right into every joint and every bone, but for some reason this was taken by Debs as an opportunity to torture the now heated joints which rather took the shine off the experience, oh well no pain no gain eh?
I am growing increasingly annoyed with the excessive use of the term apprenticeship. I am proud of the licensed trade and truly believe that it provides fantastic life skills to the people that it employs but why has the industry joined the mindless upsell?
I cannot have an apprenticeship in bar work, or make up, cleaning or bloody dog walking! An apprenticeship is not only a structured 4 – 5 year training experience it is unique to the ‘trades’. When I completed my apprenticeship I was ‘indentured’ or signed over to my employer in a tradition going back centuries. Does this tradition mean anything in the modern world? I think it does.
We were indentured into big industries full of big characters and we learnt our way socially as well as technically. The difference between a college student and an apprentice was not in the education, the qualification signified something more. That you have completed an apprenticeship shows that you have conquered the psychopaths and perverts that exist in big industry, it shows that you have risen above the vindictive supervisors.
Not only do you have your trade and your qualifications when you leave your apprenticeship but you have the ability to survive the rather odd world of industry. So yes I will give you an apprenticeship but if you insist on calling it that then don’t be surprised when you have to spend some time with my old mate pervy Paul.
I have given some more thought to my theories on the delightful Mother Nature and I believe it all stacks up to support my theory. Much as I hate to anger the feminist movement if we have a Mother Nature then there must be a Father Nature and so at some point my nemesis was Mrs Nature.
Now we hear nothing of Mr Nature which leads me to assume that she is now single, an ex Mrs Nature now and therefore a Ms Nature. Now that I have had time to reflect further I think I am understanding Ms Nature better.
There is no mention of Mr Nature anywhere so we can presume that theirs was not an amicable split. Far be it from me to assume that this has left Ms Nature bitter, twisted and seeking revenge well not without further evidence at least.
How does Ms Nature respond to definitive facts? She blithely ignores them and when faced with reasoned argument Ms Nature does not engage. Having taken a position that she cannot hope to defend Ms Nature’s response is to dig in and fight in the face of inevitable loss. The gains that I make and the successes that I have are inevitably met with a spiteful stab of pain.
In fact not an inch of ground is given without a battle, no assistance is given and every win that I have is considered ‘against the odds’ and a feat of defiance. The more thought I put into this the more I am thinking that, surely there can’t be another woman that hates me as much as my ex wife? That would mean I am Mr Nature.
Now if I was Mr Nature then this sheds a whole new light on the Mr(s) Smith conspiracy, perhaps it is more fundamental than my knowledge of the mysterious Dr Evil’ ship (thanks Anita). Is the shadowy Mr(s) Smith funded by Ms Nature herself, am I against the very forces of nature personified? No on second thoughts I probably just really angered Ms Nature when I smashed up her handiwork and to be fair she is a sweetheart compared to the ex wife!
Well I have just completed my evening’s 25 press ups, I now do morning and afternoon there’s no stopping me. Obviously twice daily sessions is an increase in overall exercise but the mission that I have is not to increase the reps but to concentrate the energy into the areas that need work. My left hand has moved in closer and after the first couple of cracks and crunches I can get it tucked in tight to my shoulders for the correct press up pose, there’s work to do but it’s clearly succumbing to brute force and ignorance, of which I have plenty.
Lefty is being somewhat more troublesome, I need to get it to an angle that means the fingers are on the floor and not the knuckles but the angle is not there yet. When standing with my hand on a table I can just about get the arm to the correct angle which makes sense as it takes the physioterrorist two hands to bend old lefty back anywhere near where it needs to be. On a positive note I have definitely overcome the solid block of the screws, current theory is that where they were in the edge of what is now my scaphoid and/or lunate bones and that by the subtle* application of my body weight I have split them out of the bone and freed the carpal joints. I will acknowledge that I may not have a complete or accurate grasp of the world of orthopedics but I like to think that I am picking it up quickly, it’s really just mechanics with a little extra blood.
And so this evening I pushed lefty into a finger down press up stance, complaints were plentiful and loud but slowly I applied the load, easing it into the modified bone structure that is my wrist. The heel of my hand started to lower as the newly engineered flex between the carpal rows started to accommodate the load and then a sharp stabbing pain accompanied by a pop signified end of play. I thought that I had dislocated a finger but this was not the case, I checked the various movements of the wrist and think I located the source of the disturbance, movement around the Ulna joint is accompanied by new pain. My guess is that I have further freed the joint and it is complaining, obviously Ms Nature has still not realised that I don’t listen.
I have said it before, either medicine and nature can get with the program or I shall do it on my own but there is only one way. Remember people I do this so you don’t have to!
As an aside the wonderful James Patterson has given me much to think about in the last book, Mr(s) Smith could be anyone I must ensure that I keep my guard up at all times. I shall be asking Helen if the pub has had any new additions to the Bingo club or is it more likely that they are in the tea dance club**?
*Subtle is a subjective word
**This subject will receive a post all of its own in due course
I don’t normally use the blog for promoting things but I have to share the name of James Patterson, this is an author that nobody should miss.
Yesterday as I left the house I realised the 100 pages of my current David Baldacci was not going to last a week so I packed a fresh James Patterson ‘kill me if you can’. During the journey to work I had read around 60 pages and certainly got a taste for the story. Yesterday evening I made a cup of tea and settled down for another quick read.
I am not entirely sure what happened but at midnight I closed the rear cover, nearly 500 tumultuous pages later. A plot that twists in front of your eyes with such audacity that its not actually possible to take a pause, this is a book that really can’t be put down.
This really is a fantastic author guys, don’t miss him.