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I fancied writing this down. I'm not the kind of person who believes in or does new year resolutions, but rather I prefer to think of things that I would like to achieve at some point in the year, new year or not. I'll break this down into categories, and bear in mind that this will not only be the good/interesting/fun things that I want to do, but also a few predictions.

Degree
I have a set goal with my degree: to finish it, and get a proper job. I know, easier said than done I am sure. Within the calendar year of 2009, I will have sampled three seperate courses. There's AA100 which I started in October 2008. Then there's A210 which begins in February 2009. And then in October 2009 I will start U211. Three seperate courses in one year. Beyond that, there's only two more courses to do. The realisation of that is quite a strange one, because it feels as though I have only just begun and that I have a very long way to go. In truth, I don't. It's not that far away, and graduation should be in the summer of 2011. What a strange feeling. I hope to meander my way through A210 to the best of my ability - I am sure it is not as difficult as the rather threatening material makes it look.

Books
Last year I made a book list that I intended to get through. No such luck. I sucked in every attempt that I made, and judging by my previous entry about my reading in 2008, I wasn't anywhere near as erudite as I wished to be in my literary choices. This year, I hope to change my piss poor attempt into a much better one. It's only 5th January, but I am coming towards the end of the most recent book that I purchased, which is 600 pages. I am hopeful that I will read more this year. I am also hopeful that I will read better stuff too. As I have two books by Ayn Rand, a number of romantic writings, and the complete works of William Shakespeare to get through, I think I am on a much better path than 2008.

Work
With one of our guys off for the long haul, I fear and very much feel that we were going to get heavily rammed. Arse. With The Boss being forced to take two weeks worth of holiday this month, there will only be two of us in the department, and with me only being a part-timer, for half of the time there will only be one person. Not looking good. Our problem is not the work and the stuff that we are required to do, it is other people and their lack of tact as well as their impatience. I will definately not resolve to be nicer to people because most people that I come across that I have to work with don't deserve it because of their bad attitude towards us. It's going to be a difficult start to the year and I hope it doesn't last too long.

Learning for Learning's sake
I like learning. I'm one of these people who can put the Discovery channel on and watch it all day. I love learning solely for the sake of learning new stuff. I think that we are a rare breed of people and it saddens me that there are not more of us. Anyway, this year, my challenge is to start learning a new language. I've mentioned it before - Russian. I am under no illusions that I can learn much of a language with a Cyrillic alphabet within the space of one calendar year. However, I simply wish to start learning as we all have to start somewhere, and I really want the challenge.

Games/Consoles/Computers
We have rather neglected our xBox recently. That must change. Not only that, but I have been seriously neglecting the games that I used to play on this machine. Since installing a new Razer gaming mouse last week, I have started playing Day of Defeat: Source again. It is fun, and I think that I had forgotten that. It's nice to be back, even if I do suck at it. I do resolve to do one thing: take better care of this machine. It was running hot recently (35ºC immediately after being turned on, and 55ºC while playing games), and today I hoovered it out. Now it's 10-15ºC lower which can only be good, surely? You should have seen the disgusting amounts of dust in there, especially under the CPU fan. There's a lesson for you - hoover out your PC every few months, it can make a massive difference. On one more unrelated note, for as long as EA keep advertisements and spyware in their new release of The Sims 3, I am not buying it. Sorry EA, but you've just lost yourself a very loyal customer of 8 years.

Life in General
On the morning after our second anniversary, The Boss and I were sat having breakfast in the hotel in London. The Boss could see a family behind me and he was annoyed by the behaviour of the children. We then started talking about children. After a short pause, he said "One of us should get sterilised", or words to that effect. I agree, at least one of us should get neutered. I may only be in my early twenties and he in his mid-twenties, but we know that children aren't for us. We're more the work focussed type. We don't want interruptions or to have to take time out for someone else. I also don't want to ruin my relatively nice body - I'm very happy with the way it looks now. In 40 years time, I want to look like Helen Mirren in a Bikini, not like a lot of these women you see on things like Embarrassing Illnesses with massive amounts of stretch marks and extra skin. Nah, not for me. In 2009 one of us will probably be neutered, which one is yet to be decided. As I have had abdominal surgery before, I need to see a gynaecologist first (I hate the word gynaecologist, it makes me want to hurl). As shallow as we may seem, the choice to remain without children is a more difficult one than to blindly follow society and have some because "everyone does it".

We might travel a little. Apparently I would like Prague.

We might get a dog. Rescue dog of course - what breed and age we do not know, but it is something that comes up in conversation quite regularly.

Beyond all of that, there really is little to talk about. I hope that 2009 won't be terribly exciting in a bad way, but I also hope that the world doesn't come to an end. I'm not ready for that yet. Are you?

I am a great believer in the idea that people can tell an awful lot about you based upon the company that you keep. I don't keep much company, so I'm rather a mystery to most people. Supplementary to that, I also believe that people can tell a lot about you based upon the types of books that you read. And that is why in January of this year I began to keep a catalogue of the books that I read. I've decided to do it online.

I had great expectations for myself this year, I thought that I would get through about 40 books, and I even gave over time to creating an Excel Spreadsheet with all of the books that I was planning on reading and whether I read them or not. This fell by the wayside as I am more inclined to pick up books as they come along, rather than set myself a list. Except of course when it comes to my studying. Thus I present to you, my book catalogue from 2008.

After a mistake at sign-up, I ended up with Wilde as my username. I'm a dunce. And to think, I work in IT. Oh yes, it's better to look at it as a "Cover" view unless you're really interested in seeing the ratings that I give things. The covers on there will be the ones that I did read, except for The Little Drummer Girl - I couldn't find the correct cover.

So, what do we have, and what can you tell about me?

Hmm, it would appear that I enjoy a bit of humour. We have a couple of P. G. Wodehouse Jeeves books, as well as rather a handful of Stephen Fry books. I do like a laugh and to be entertained by the most mellifluous man on the planet.

We can also see that I enjoy a good Penguin Classic, modern or otherwise. My library currently contains 7 books published under the guise of Penguin Classics - that's almost a third.

It would appear I am rather taken by utopian/dystopian/a bit politicaly type books, if you include Ayn Rand (neither of those I have read), Orwell, Huxley and Le Carré.

I also have a taste for books which have an air of truth about them, such as Brick Lane (the worst book that I have ever read) and We Need To Talk About Kevin. Or of course those that are plainly non-fiction such as Pensées and Childfree and Loving It!

I quite like crime too, as shown by the two instances of Stuart MacBride.

It is easy to tell that I am quite the admirer of Oscar Wilde, not only do I have his only novel but also his complete works. Only the hardcore have the complete works...surely?

However, there is one that may floor people. At the time of writing, I have not yet read it, but it sits in the pile by the bed begging to be read. It's a joyus subject - mutilation of horses and psychiatry. I have every intention of reading it over Christmas, oh I'll be a happy soul. What could I possibly want with Equus? If only I knew, because I've got the DVD too. Something draws me in. Maybe it's just the cover? (Note to The Boss: You ogle Noemie Lenoir everytime the Marks and Spencer advert comes on, it's only fair I can do the same over a very young Mr. Firth.)

But, overall, what have we learned from this?
That I have a diverse taste in the genres of writing regardless of whether I like the books themselves. And then I can be a little shallow, being drawn in by the covers. Don't judge a book by its cover. Same goes for me, just because I like funny books does not mean that I'm all sweetness and light. And one more thing...I make a piss-poor effort at reading when I have a list.

I wonder what 2009 will hold in terms of books to read? I hope it is a little more successful than my rather pitiful attempt at reading this year.

I feel very much like that today. I rejected reality by leaving work early. It's been a hard week. I am rejecting more of reality by not bothering to do any more studying of this chapter.

I am attempting to reject some more reality by putting off doing something or another with a digital photoframe for the Mother In Law. Pfft. I suppose I better do it really. That way it is over and done with.

I had been rejecting the reality of clothes needing washing but plain and simply ignoring them for the past 10 days. Now they're in the washing machine. Had to be done I suppose. Bleh. It's the bit afterwards that I don't like.

Now that leaves me wondering...what am I going to do this afternoon? Well once I have fucked around with the photoframe a bit, I shall...get back to my Pensées. I only have it on loan until Tuesday and I don't want to take out an extension on it - I would rather read it quickly so that I can move on to another book. Mother has left me Brick Lane by Monica Ali, which I think that I will read. After that, I plan on a little bit of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, John Le Carré, Virginia Woolf and then in a twist I was going to read The Godfather.

Why am I reading Blaise Pascal's Pensée? Why? Why? Why? I truly wish I knew. I heard about it somewhere and decided to read it. For those who know the french, they will realise that "Pensée" means thought, and is apparently where the word "Pansy" comes from. Well yes, thoughts indeed. It is truly just 300 pages of one man's thoughts of all of the elements of the world. Some of them, from what I have read thus far, actually seem to still stand today. As he was around in the 17th Century, that's pretty good going. I am yet to get to his Wager of Faith.

I suppose it was an early form of a blog. Most blog writers, my shite self included there, write about their thoughts on things. The philosophise about the world based upon their experiences, beliefs or what they think is correct. Pascal's Pensées is no different. It is just a fairly young man theorising on the world based upon his beliefs. Good on him I say. They must be good as they are still being read almost 400 years later.

And then, in a complete turn around from my philosophising there, I am going to play on the xBox. I'm not sure if I shall listen to any more of Broken Skin this week. I might save it for a night that I cannot get to sleep, or an afternoon next week when I need an hour or so doing nothing, and entirely to myself. However, before that I have to actually get the next lot on the bloody thing. It's more difficult than it sounds.

Right well...I shall march on with my Pensées before I get put off.

Hello indeed. It has been a little while. According to my Movable Type panel, it's been four days since my last entry. What Ho! I've been a little busy.

The weekend I was coerced into playing Bioshock, for some of it at least. I'm only on the second "level" if you can call it that. It scares me a little. Very atmospheric. I'll keep on trying.

Yesterday I went to work, and those four hours flew by, which is quite a surprise considering I didn't exactly do much. Last night my parents called. They are coming back. Bally well time too. Anyone would think that they had emigrated. I think this time of year is when it starts to get a little too hot for them. They are coming back to a Britain that has had some horrid weather recently, but it seems to be settling down now. The sun is shining, there is a little breeze, the washing is out, it's not too warm but warm enough to walk around without a coat.

They should be landing in Luton after midnight, and not getting here until I believe after 5am. What joy. They say they will be very quiet, that they won't go upstairs until after we're up. We tell them that they are silly because in all likelihood it either won't wake us up, or we'll already be awake. The latter I suspect as I sleep rather lightly. That will definately give me a chance to finish up the Fry book I'm reading. I'm almost at the end, and as I took Pascal's Pensées out of the library today, I could do with finishing The Liar.

What else is happening? I've been attempting to tidy up a little. I think I will just make the excuse that both studying, work and tiredness have been inthe way of me tidying properly. Indeed. It is more a case of me really not caring. At least we can see the floor, and the dining room table isn't too bad. That's all that matters.

I worked today. Oh did I work. I was charged with a kind of untangling job. In truth it was taking patch leads out of the slots at the side and hanging them down the front of the cabinet. Tomorrow I have to change all of the patch leads for some special new type that we have. Thank the powers that be for MP3 players. Oh the joy. Four hours of swapping cables about in silence, or rather with the heavy drone of the air conditioner, would have been tortuous. I cut my hands and left arm to ribbons mind you, while scraping them along the rough edges of some unterminated cables. Ah well. Shit happens.

Instead of the air conditioner, I had a couple of hours of music, good shit that I like, and then half an hour or so of the latest audio book. You know, the one I alluded to in the last entry. Broken Skin. The voice acting is fucking brilliant. Beyond brilliant almost. I only had one issue - that one of my headphones, the left one to be exact, is completely fucked. Doesn't work at all now. I mean, what do I do with that? New earphones, and the Bose in ear ones look good, but they're about £70. What if I don't like them, or, even on their smallest size, they still hurt? Maybe it's worth the punt?

Now that all is said and done, and I've done pretty much all of the tidying/cleaning that I can be bothered to do, I shall go and listen in silence to the rest of the first disc of this audiobook. What a nice way to spend an hour. That way I can listen properly.

Toodle-oo!

One of the most boring things in life is having to wait for someone or something to turn up. I missed the electricity meter reader yesterday afternoon, the note in the door said that he would come this morning. I got up before 8am. He hasn't been yet, although it is barely beyond 9:30am. I thought that, as I was waiting around I would muse on a few of life's issues.

Getting older scares me.
I had a mini discussion about this the other day with the Boss. I asked him what age he would like to be if he could be one age forever. His answer was the age that he is now, which is 24. I concurred and said that I would like to perpetually be 22. It's a nice age. I'm not yet "getting old" as I'm not near 30, but I'm not so young that I'm still excluded from doing things. I am a proper fully-fledged adult. It's a nice age. However, later this year I turn 23. Next year I turn 24. In 2010 I turn 25. In 2015 I turn 30. Ugh. Just the thought of being 30 strikes fear into my heart. And to think, this is coming from someone who, mentally, feels about 40.

At the age of 22, I know that I have another 40 years worth of work in me. At the age of 30, I still have another 30 odd years of work in me. By the time we get to what is considered "retirement age" now, I am sure that the retirement age will have been changed to..."never". You retire when you die. That would solve a pensions crisis.

Underneath this rough, and rather sharp exterior is really someone who is quite worried about getting older. Uncertainty worries me. Wow. That's coming from a person who doesn't give a flying fuck about decisions being laid down. It's not uncertainty in terms of "oh, what am I going to have for dinner tonight?" That kind of thing I don't care about. It's not me being worried about how much I will be earning aged 30, or where we will be living, or who we will know, or whether members of my family will still be alive. No no. Nothing like that.

It's the uncertainty of what I am going to do. As ever the student does, I do not know what I want to do with my life. I never have, not truly. I've theorised many a time about what I might like to do, but I do not truly know. I don't think that anyone ever does. They may think that they know what they want to do, they may get that "dream job", and then realise that they hate it - therefore they did not know.

[Slight pause while I make myself a pot of tea...]

What possibly makes it more difficult is that the Boss reminds me on a regular basis that it is a soft, bit of a Mickey Mouse, "arty" degree. Heh. Yeah. Says he, the one who is always asking me on correct English usage!

A large proportion of people who take an English degree end up in secretarial or administrative roles. No thank you. Been there, done that, it made me lose any faith I once had in humanity, and made me realise that a majority of the great British public are a little on the dim side. I'll give that one a miss thanks. But where does it leave me? A good degree in English generally proves that one is good at research. I enjoy research.

Would I take up a research role? Well, there are research roles, and then there are research roles.

There are research roles for large companies, whether that be in their production, testing or marketing departments. The kind of thing where you are researching the same thing, day in, day out. Can you imagine me working in a marketing department? Meh. I don't believe in anything - I certainly wouldn't believe in a "product". Except maybe Twinings Teas. But what research can you do about that? Tea is good. Tea is wonderful. Drink Tea. There you go, research done.

And then there are research roles. The interesting research roles. The ones for television production companies, whether that be the Discovery Channel or the BBC. That would rock my rainbow toe socks. Many different subjects over time. Good shit. And there's another type of research role that falls into the interesting category. That of research in a University. Heh, that would generally require me to take a PhD. Yeah, any PhD that I took would be a crock, lined with 200 pages of bullshit. It would be an absolute crock of shit.

And then when I think about where this degree might lead me, and I become ever more confused and uncertain about the whole thing, I start to wonder if that's the only reason that I'm taking it - to get a job. Of course it's not.

A very shallow part of me is taking this degree in the hope that it will turn me into some cultured, learned, well read, literate polymath. Will it? Will it change the way I think? The way I speak? My sense of humour? My social (in)abilities? Who knows.

I want to do something of consequence in life. I want to read Pascal's Pensees, John Le Carré, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and other frightfully pretentious sounding authors. I want to appear well read. I want to think that I am fairly well read. To look at my collection of books at the moment would just appear a joke. Full of Fry, Wodehouse, Sociology, and Wilde. To some, insipid up to the hilt. Oh well. I can hope that this year, my bookcase (when I finally bother to get one) will start to fill up with the likes of Blaise Pascal, John Le Carré, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Leo Tolstoy, and Ernest Hemingway. Now let me chuck a few poets in there too, Philip Larkin, John Clare and of course Wilde.

But why do I want to do this? The answer to life, the Universe and everything does not lie in good books. No of course it doesn't you bloody fool, it's 42. You see, I must have learnt from this bloody sociology course, because I have come to what feels like the end and I am no bloody closer to an answer, I am merely getting more fucking questions. Arse.

Perhaps I'm not really meant to know what I want to do? Perhaps I need to do a whole load of things and see what fits? Perhaps I need to make a huge amount of mistakes before I realise what is for me? Then again, perhaps somewhere out of the blue something will fall into my lap which is just perfect? Hmm. I don't hold my breath. I'll keep trying and searching for something and see if anything does just drop. Until then I shall get back to my pretentious authors.

There are days when I feel like that. Completely vacuous. It's a horrible feeling. Today appears to be one of them. I have times when just want to read, and read, and read, and read a little more. And, oh yes, read. Today is one of them. The weather outside is absolutely horrible, and for those of you who have not been out in it - don't. I was almost blown over a number of times when I had to leave the security of various buildings.

I thought that today would be the shit, and all because I had to do one more computer as I had been last week. I sat down at the machine, book in hand and expected it to take forever. You would not credit just how bally surprised I was when only half an hour later I was up, out of the chair, and striding to the door, the installation having been completed. How wonderful - it truly was. I realised why it was so quick. The dude whose computer I was using does not have any of that nasty shite on it, such as Incredimail or of course the worst offenders being the awful "cute" screensavers.

I think that we need a policy which states that only we (the IT Department) are allowed to install software, or any software to be installed has to be certified by us as being appropriate. Software such as Incredimail, Screensavers and items of that ilk are not permitted at all. I do not think that it sounds too draconian. I think it sounds okay and it means that the people using the machines will not be complaining every five minutes that their machine runs slowly.

The weather was so very shite this afternoon that the desk lamp had to go on before 4pm. Plus, it is now hailing. There's a rather mournful looking pigeon in the apple tree trying to sleep and shelter. All of a sudden the sun has come out. It's quite a strange light. The hail stones are getting bigger too. Shock of all horrors - the bird table remains resolute, as do the bird feeders!

See what I mean about no - one being home? I'm now talking, and thinking bollocks.

This is a prime example of a moment when I want to skulk back into a book and pretend that the outside world does not exist. I had so much more to say, but I've lost it. All in a moment of thinking "Should I take a photo? Yes or no? Aahh shite. Too late". That is all that it takes - bam! All gone. This book that I'm reading is done in a series of letters, all of which are rather comical. I bet I appeared to be a howling lunatic babboon this morning, sat at this dude's computer, laughing at the word C-O-C-K, and then repeating it out loud to myself. Does it get much more ridiculous? But who can complain when their job is so tedious that they are able to sit with a dirty book and laugh at it? I cannot complain. The Secretarial shite was not a patch on this. I've lost count of the amount of times I've been able to sit with a book while waiting for something to happen, and amazingly get paid for it. The other good one is audiobooks while you work. I have listened to four out of the five CDs of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy while I have been at work. Yeah, bring on the tedium!

The next time I have to sit somewhere and read in the course of my work, I will probably make some half-arsed attempt at looking intellectual by having a classic in my hands, or perhaps a book of poetry one day. I'm sure that some of the books that I read make me look like an absolute arse-wallopp. Especially those that I laugh at. I enjoy a good run of humour books, and then I like to break it up with some more serious things. After two three comical books, I then read Brave New World and Ninteen Eighty-Four, now I'm back on the funnies. With a smattering of the latest module of my degree in there too - woe is globalisation.

There are now two pigeons in the apple tree, they are sat on the same branch posturing at one another. Dudes, stop being so much of a big girl's blouse, just snuggle up and keep warm. If you're the pair that are always fighting in the garden, I've told you before that you shouldn't. Make love, not war. You can get on. You know you can. One of them is trying to pick a fight - the other really doesn't care. Go on, just shite on his head, that'll get him to shut up. They are funny creatures to watch. Much nicer to look at than Feral Pigeons. Shame that Wood Pigeons are so damn stupid.

Oh arse it all, it's cold, I need something warm on my hands.

For posterity...

This entry was brought to you by the word: Shite - I used it enough times.
The Weather at this precise moment is: Shite.
I am listening to: Smile Like You Mean It - The Killers
The book that I mentioned an awful lot was: The Hippopotamus by Fry, Stephen