Sunday, 30 November 2008
almost finished
Got my new xt brakes over courtesy of Andy Deliveries Inc. and first impressions are good, great lever and more modulation than the lxs. Bolt thru is also pretty awesome, tracks much better through rough stuff though really needs to go to Innerleithen to get a proper workout. It's had a few incarnations but the ferrous is pretty close to being pretty much 'finished' or as finished as bikes ever get. All that's left is to try out the layback post and either go with that or stick with the inline, not a bad position to be in..
Andy and Julie's visit
At the Bernabeu
In the Real Madrid dugout
Andy and Julie pose outside the palace
busy busy busy
It's been a hectic few weeks. 2 weekends ago Carla's friend Claire was over from Germany, then last weekend we went up to a family wedding in San Sebastian which was awesome. And this weekend one of my brothers was over with his girlfriend, next weekend we're back in Carla's mum's village for the weekend so it's by no means over yet.
The wedding
Thursday night we catch a train north then cadge a lift to Carla's Mum (Marian)'s village, Funes. It's tiny, everyone knows everyone and almost everyone is related to one another. It's very similar to where I grew up in fact, except the accent is probably clearer in Funes.
Thursday night we descended on Marian's cousins for dinner, a great bloody feast in fact and I took great delight in attacking some traditional Spanish fodder. It was also my first real test of Spanish because although the staff talk machine-gun Spanish all at once during break and lunch at work, the rest of the time I only ever speak in English so I'm able to coast and bluff my way through most things. This time was different in as much as I would have to field direct questions that required a specific answer, obviously Carla her mum and her dad are all fluent and could interpret but to be able to give some sign the last 10 months haven't been entirely wasted would always help to endear me. I think i did ok, no-one stopped dead in their tracks at some obscenity I'd inadvertently uttered, although in Spain the c word is so popular that'd be a feat in itself.
So it began that night and pretty much continued all weekend, the next day we got a lift to pamplona then the bus to San Sebastian. We visted Marian's Auntie Laura (who lives on the seafront, I cannot express how awesome that is, it's a-mazing) and I offered to marry her so I could live there, which seemed to go down well. Later we saw one of Marian's cousins, the brother of the woman who got married, and played with his kids while trying to hold glasses of wine. The younger has been nicknamed The Terminator by his teachers with good reason. Some tapas and more alcohol followed at a variety of bars before getting some sleep.
Next morning saw us at the church at a very entertaining service (even though I hardly understoof a word, the priest was obviously the warm up act for Ricky Gervais) we headed for the reception and were nothing short of delighted at finding a free bar! I sat beside yet another of Carla's endless supply of cousins and I managed to banter through 7 courses of pretty fabtastic food in Spanish. He even offered to take me canoeing when we go back to Funes! A slide show followed, cigars for the men and then we all traipsed downstairs to get our dancing on, again another free bar meant we were pretty well lubricated. I managed to get cornered by another of Marian's cousins (honestly how many are there?) an older, suave guy who talked at length about a Spanish restaurant in London that was 'la puta madre' (son of a bitch, but in a good way) but how it was really expensive. He then popped out a ream of fifties and started peeling some off for me when Marian appeared, I made my excuses and broke free but not before the guys daughter (who in both English and Spanish was endless) harped on about something boring and irrelevant, this time I broke free much more quickly. After that we danced, drank, got ataxi to the hotel went out into town (service started at 12 and this was now about 1 in the morning) for more food and drink before staggering back and hitting the hay.
Sunday we said our goodbyes and caught our train. A 7 hour trip was never going to be great but after we discovered the *unusual* seating plan, ie 51 and 52 were not side by side but in front of one another, wtf! We decided to blag it, the conductor realised and said we'd have to move once the person whose seat we'd taken came on. Which would have been bearable if the giant Russian hadn't appeared and sat in front of us, he would be Carla's neighbour. Ahem. As he shotgunned 2 cartons of very cheap table wine, Carla wisely decided to ask to sit somewhere else. So we sat apart got pretty tired, grabbed some food once we got home but finally crawled into our own bed later that night. Job done.
The wedding
Thursday night we catch a train north then cadge a lift to Carla's Mum (Marian)'s village, Funes. It's tiny, everyone knows everyone and almost everyone is related to one another. It's very similar to where I grew up in fact, except the accent is probably clearer in Funes.
Thursday night we descended on Marian's cousins for dinner, a great bloody feast in fact and I took great delight in attacking some traditional Spanish fodder. It was also my first real test of Spanish because although the staff talk machine-gun Spanish all at once during break and lunch at work, the rest of the time I only ever speak in English so I'm able to coast and bluff my way through most things. This time was different in as much as I would have to field direct questions that required a specific answer, obviously Carla her mum and her dad are all fluent and could interpret but to be able to give some sign the last 10 months haven't been entirely wasted would always help to endear me. I think i did ok, no-one stopped dead in their tracks at some obscenity I'd inadvertently uttered, although in Spain the c word is so popular that'd be a feat in itself.
So it began that night and pretty much continued all weekend, the next day we got a lift to pamplona then the bus to San Sebastian. We visted Marian's Auntie Laura (who lives on the seafront, I cannot express how awesome that is, it's a-mazing) and I offered to marry her so I could live there, which seemed to go down well. Later we saw one of Marian's cousins, the brother of the woman who got married, and played with his kids while trying to hold glasses of wine. The younger has been nicknamed The Terminator by his teachers with good reason. Some tapas and more alcohol followed at a variety of bars before getting some sleep.
Next morning saw us at the church at a very entertaining service (even though I hardly understoof a word, the priest was obviously the warm up act for Ricky Gervais) we headed for the reception and were nothing short of delighted at finding a free bar! I sat beside yet another of Carla's endless supply of cousins and I managed to banter through 7 courses of pretty fabtastic food in Spanish. He even offered to take me canoeing when we go back to Funes! A slide show followed, cigars for the men and then we all traipsed downstairs to get our dancing on, again another free bar meant we were pretty well lubricated. I managed to get cornered by another of Marian's cousins (honestly how many are there?) an older, suave guy who talked at length about a Spanish restaurant in London that was 'la puta madre' (son of a bitch, but in a good way) but how it was really expensive. He then popped out a ream of fifties and started peeling some off for me when Marian appeared, I made my excuses and broke free but not before the guys daughter (who in both English and Spanish was endless) harped on about something boring and irrelevant, this time I broke free much more quickly. After that we danced, drank, got ataxi to the hotel went out into town (service started at 12 and this was now about 1 in the morning) for more food and drink before staggering back and hitting the hay.
Sunday we said our goodbyes and caught our train. A 7 hour trip was never going to be great but after we discovered the *unusual* seating plan, ie 51 and 52 were not side by side but in front of one another, wtf! We decided to blag it, the conductor realised and said we'd have to move once the person whose seat we'd taken came on. Which would have been bearable if the giant Russian hadn't appeared and sat in front of us, he would be Carla's neighbour. Ahem. As he shotgunned 2 cartons of very cheap table wine, Carla wisely decided to ask to sit somewhere else. So we sat apart got pretty tired, grabbed some food once we got home but finally crawled into our own bed later that night. Job done.
Saturday, 15 November 2008
that wasn't meant to happen
Got back from riding yesterday and threw my kit in the washing machine, contemplated cleaning the camelbak but as I'm planning on riding again tomorrow figured drying it on the line would suffice. Emptied most of the contents and got some big pegs to clip it on (our washing line is outside the bedroom window) as I clipped the first one then turned to get the next, you guessed it, the bugger jettisoned itself free of the line. We live on the 6th floor so I was a bit nervous as to what may happen and watched as it clattered the washing line below us (don't break it, don't break it!) then the one below that (don't break it, don't break it) before coming to rest on the whirlygig of the 3rd floor flat. Standing in a towel I tried to form the sentence in Spanish to explain what had just happened. The best I could muster amounted to: 'sorry but my bag is here.' Not that informative or helpful really so I called Carla. When she stopped laughing she said she would ask when she got home. However, the owner/tenant wasn't in and hasn't been back (we left a note and I can still see the bag on the whirlygig) so it's still there.
Bugger.
[EDIT] Carla would like me to point out she drew her moustache without the aid of a mirror.
Bugger.
[EDIT] Carla would like me to point out she drew her moustache without the aid of a mirror.
stache off
So that went ok. Numbers were down on our party 2 weeks ago but still a few bodies there last night and we ended up heading to a bar as things slowed down here but got home bout 4 (early for here) and feel fine this morning so all good. Chris and I have made a pact to keep the moustaches at least until Monday to show our colleagues what they missed. Although both of us are taking our razors in case the other gets cold feet and wusses out.
Gringos (Ryan, me, Chris and Andrew)
Andrew and Nicci share a moment
Conjuror or con man?
Carla only applied hers once we got back from the pub and we were half cut at 4 in the morning, shame cos it suits her
Gringos (Ryan, me, Chris and Andrew)
Andrew and Nicci share a moment
Conjuror or con man?
Carla only applied hers once we got back from the pub and we were half cut at 4 in the morning, shame cos it suits her
Thursday, 13 November 2008
mouser cross
Uni application is freaking me out more and more. Issued with a work experience sheet for Nottingham: dates, hours per week, duration (in months or years!) etc. Hmm how to explain 2 work experiences in 1996, one in 2008 and two to come. In Madrid. Ah well, we'll see.
The beard is pretty manly, and by manly I mean itchy as a bastard, although Marty informed me this is against the rules, mousers must be flying solo. Which makes life a damned sight harder and a lot more embarassing. The 'tache will be unveiled tomorrow, hangover will probably dictate how long it survives post fiesta. Although if Chris* is up for it we may go on until christmas? Again we'll see.
On an uttery different topic I've been slightly aroused by current cyclocross fever, seems like everyone is at it and it looks cool. Not cool in a girls will want me sort of way more cool in a fuck this is gonna hurt but be fun in a masochistic sort of way. A single speed road bike with knobbly tyres looks like a (scary) blast. Looking at pics on pdxcross (shamelessly nicked again from Hell on Wheels) it appears to be a brutal, spiritual battle where mortals become heroes:
(much more here)
However, dig on a few less artistic sites and it seems a little less, well, sexy:
Basically guys riding round a school park. Still it's riding bikes so it's all good :D
*co-teaching assistant at my school and devout beard grower for this party
The beard is pretty manly, and by manly I mean itchy as a bastard, although Marty informed me this is against the rules, mousers must be flying solo. Which makes life a damned sight harder and a lot more embarassing. The 'tache will be unveiled tomorrow, hangover will probably dictate how long it survives post fiesta. Although if Chris* is up for it we may go on until christmas? Again we'll see.
On an uttery different topic I've been slightly aroused by current cyclocross fever, seems like everyone is at it and it looks cool. Not cool in a girls will want me sort of way more cool in a fuck this is gonna hurt but be fun in a masochistic sort of way. A single speed road bike with knobbly tyres looks like a (scary) blast. Looking at pics on pdxcross (shamelessly nicked again from Hell on Wheels) it appears to be a brutal, spiritual battle where mortals become heroes:
(much more here)
However, dig on a few less artistic sites and it seems a little less, well, sexy:
Basically guys riding round a school park. Still it's riding bikes so it's all good :D
*co-teaching assistant at my school and devout beard grower for this party
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
bring it on
Got results from my GAMSAT this week (big fucking 6 hour, £200 med school entrance exam) and happy to say I did better than I thought. Needed an average of 58 (not percentile score apparently but they haven't told us what it is either, emdless) or minimum of 55 in 2 of three sections. Scored 66 average, 70, 70 and 68 so very fucking pleased thankyouverymuch.
However. This is not to get into uni, oh no this is just to get an interview :'(
Dates to be confirmed but deep breath, think happy thoughts and unleash the beast.
However. This is not to get into uni, oh no this is just to get an interview :'(
Dates to be confirmed but deep breath, think happy thoughts and unleash the beast.
'tache take two
The first attempt succumbed shortly after posting here (it had there were warrants issued and protests filed) but it shall live again! Many have fallen now even, Marty has shorn his torrance but the beard tactic seems to be the way forward. I'm sure if this is the mouser equivalent of doping but hiding a 'tache amongst the undergrowth seems to be the safest way to get through life without quizical/comical/scared looks from other people. It shall be shaped (hopefully in not such a Freddie Mercury fashion) for this Friday's 'tache bash, let's see if it lasts the weekend.*
*I have to teach children remember and Alec pointed out I'd fail any police disclosure with my alarming caterpillar lip.
*I have to teach children remember and Alec pointed out I'd fail any police disclosure with my alarming caterpillar lip.
yes we can
I never thought I'd be this young when I saw a black president. I thought it would happen before I shuffled off this mortal coil but before I hit 30? A-mazin! Plus I felt he (or she..) would have had to be further to the right in order to win out over some crusty white guy.
Yes we can? Well time will tell but he's the best chance we have.
Yes we can? Well time will tell but he's the best chance we have.
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