drunk.com

So it’s been a while since I posted, but it’s not due to a lack of drinking. Rather I’ve been busy. The semester ended, and I returned to where I had been living last year. I was reunited with my fiancé, my parents arrived, and we had the smallest wedding on record with a total of eleven people including the priest. An excellent way to spend a few weeks, though somewhat exhausting. I’ll be back at school shortly, and am looking forward to a little time to recover before my wife arrives for us to start our married life together.

So, what does this have to do with drinking? Well first off, there’s been quite a lot of that happening over the past three weeks, which I’ll try to break down into categories. First, spirits and cocktails. I was pleased to enjoy some of the finest martinis ever at one of my favourite bars. A small spray of dry vermouth from a mister is followed by a generous pour of gin straight out of the freezer, topped with a peel of lemon that is pinched once to release a light spray of citrus oil onto the surface of the gin and around the rim of the glass. Also on Honeymoon I enjoyed bellinis where they were created. The prosecco and white peach combination was just the thing for the summer heat.

As for wine, things started out on the right foot with some delicious Stag’s Leap 1997 at the wedding reception. On of the nice things about such a small wedding was that there was no problem in being able to source really nice wine. As it turns out, neither my father nor my mother-in-law drink, so we have a few bottles to cellar for an anniversary. After the wedding, there was plenty of wine on honeymoon, with Confini 2005, Vintage Tunini 2004, Vidaperti Coda di Volpe 2005, and La Caudrina Moscato d’Asti 2006 providing welcome relief through the warm days, though the best bottle I tasted was easily the Le Ragose 2001. I’m going to have to see if there is any way I can get some down here.

And finally, on to beer. Being back home allowed me a chance to have some Timothy Taylor Landlord which I quite enjoyed. It’s not too strong at 4.3%, but it really hits the spot. I wish I had one now.

Actually, I need to go back to wine for a minute here, as that’s what is in the glass in front of me. I’m thousands of meters above some body of water but fortunately I’m in an aircraft, enjoying a view out the window of inky darkness. But at hand is some lovely Shiraz/Viognier blend from d’Arenburg they call Laughing Magpie. d’Arenburg is one of my favourite vineyards, partly because I had an excellent lunch at their cellar door, but largely because they have such a wonderful variety of good wines. One of the things I like most about Australian winemakers is that they’re so free to experiment with varieties, which in the case of d’Arenburg means if I were forced to drink wine from a single winemaker for the rest of my life, most of my bases would be covered.

Oh, drunken thought from this past week was a use for sparkling Shiraz - Australian sangria! I don’t think it’s possible that I’m the first person to think of this, but it is the clear solution to the problem of people just really not liking the concept of sparkling red wine. Sangria is the perfect summertime drink, light and refreshing, and I think a perfect introduction to sparkling Shiraz for the uninitiated.

On a side note, I think it’s a tragedy that Shiraz (the town) is in a part of the world that discourages the consumption of alcohol. In a rare introduction of politics into this drunken blog, I think an invasion of Iran would be justified in the context of the liberation of Shiraz, and could easily be underwritten by Hardys and Penfolds.

Anyway, I think I’m going to save this and go to sleep. The in-flight entertainment system is out of service on this leg of the flight, but the Magpie has been quite entertaining in its own right. Oh, and since last I wrote I’ve been listening to the Rakes. Their new CD, Ten New Messages, is really well constructed. I don’t know if there is a single on it to match 22 Grand Job, but if there is it’s probably We Danced Together.

I’m sat here, reasonably well pissed. A bottle of some dreadful mango rum has haunted my home for almost four months, left the last time a friend of mine named Don was in town. He’s returning tomorrow, and so I thought I should have a sip or two of the bottle he left and as it’s sweet and easy to drink, I’ve managed to get through a bunch of it.

But that’s not why I’m writing. I’m writing because I happened to have turned on the TV and ‘Sliding Doors’ is on. I know it’s not everyone’s cuppa, but for me right not it’s a perfect tempest in a teapot. I must admit, I do fancy Gwyneth. Also, John Hannah is brilliant. But more than that, I’m missing London right about now. Images of the Tube, shots of The City, scenes set on the Thames, and just random pictures of streets and taxis. Yes, it’s all cliche, but nostalgia is as cliche as it gets, and that’s where I am right now.

I head back to London in two weeks. I can’t wait. There are so many things I miss. I don’t mean the exceptional taxi service, though frankly, I miss it. I miss opening TimeOut and knowing there’s going to be a band I want to see, or an exhibition. I miss living in the center of the universe. Where I am now, I’m lucky if there’s a band once or twice a year that comes here to the outback.

That said, I have tickets to see both The Shins and Maximo Park in the next couple of months and that makes me very happy. I’ve not yet seen The Shins, but I’ve seen Maximo Park in the UK and in the US and they’re brilliant. Paul Smith has a presence that’s fantastic live.

Anyway, my bed is calling, so I think I’m headed to sleep. I know I’m going to regret posting this tomorrow, not so much for the lack of content but for the typos that are so clearly going to be evident in 12 hours time.

I’m sitting here with a taste of home, well what was home up until a little while ago, in the form of a bottle of Badger First Gold from Dorset. No, I’ve never lived in Dorset, but before my last move there was a pub around the corner that served a variety of Badger ales. It’s familiar in what feels like a very good way, here working on my fourth month in a new place.

There’s not a whole lot to report at the moment. I’m into the last month of the semester, and things are largely on track. I got the score I wanted on the last paper I had graded, and so that’s pretty much one of the four classes done and dusted. I know, it’s not about grades, but it’s nice to get the feedback you seek.

Otherwise, the seasons are changing here and it’s somewhat more drastic than I was expecting. Nothing too over the top, but some shopping might be in order as my current set of clothes aren’t really doing the trick so much. The same goes for linens - I picked up some new sheets that I hope will make things more reasonable.

Oh, and on the scooter front, the 1969 Sprint 150 is sitting downstairs in my garage looking beautiful, but just today I ordered a PX200. I figure even under the most ideal of circumstances, I’m not going to get amazing reliability out of a 38 year old scooter, especially as I’m not yet a mechanic, and if I want to learn how to handle a scooter with gears, I might do better with something that I know will be able to deal with a novice. I should have it in a few weeks, and I’m really looking forward to a bit more umph on the road than the 50cc LX I’m on now.

Beyond that, I’m still waiting for a shipment of new music, but I picked up a trio of soundtracks over the weekend because they were on sale and I couldn’t help myself. In no particular order, at the moment I’m listening to the music from The Garden State, Kill Bill, Vol. 1, and Pretty in Pink. I already have a number of tracks from the first on other CDs, but I figure if they have the good taste to include the Shins and Iron and Wine, I’ll take a chance and see what else they included. The Kill Bill music isn’t bad, though sometimes too cliché for my tastes. Pretty in Pink is just funny - I know I had the soundtrack on cassette back in the day. Some of the songs have aged more gracefully than others, let’s just say.

I’m sitting here after a very long week, with Passion has Red Lips in front of me. It’s not actually a trashy novel, but an unpretentious Cabernet/Shiraz from South Australia. I bought a bottle for a party and while it tastes very young, which it is. However, any shortcomings are overcome by the label, which on the back warns that consumption of alcoholic beverages may have the side effect of “delusional misrepresentation of ones self importance.” I couldn’t agree more. It’s been known to cause people not only to register domain names, but also to post under the influence.

As I was saying, it’s been a long week. We had a project presentation on Tuesday, and it went surprisingly well. Not surprising in general - the teams on which I’ve worked in that class have largely been pretty well put together - but in particular a bunch of things that hadn’t been working all came together in the last hour. Normally it’s the opposite in that things which had worked for weeks suddenly stop working when people are watching, but this time around it worked out in our favour. I was pleased as punch.

Unfortunately, after that things went south. Given my geographic location at the moment, that wasn’t a good thing. I had a meeting with a pair of teachers from another class who weren’t particularly impressed with the work another team I was on had done. That was fair enough, as for that class no one had really put any effort into our assignment. However, on top of that the class has degenerated into an antagonistic environment. I’ve been critical of the instructors, and with good reason, but it’s gone too far.

So after they read my group the riot act, I stayed behind to have a more measured conversation and to try to clear the air. I spoke a bit about what I perceived as the situation, and in describing it alluded to what I saw as my issues with how they conduct class. At the heart of it, I don’t think they’re particularly effective communicators, at least not in the class, which is of course a bit ironic given they’re teaching a class in visual story telling. The younger of the two teachers told me she was getting angry and then tried to tell me that I wasn’t communicating effectively in the document my team had just submitted.

On the one hand, that was true. I had turned in a treatment for a short film project with which they weren’t impressed. I’ve written exactly one treatment prior to this, in this class, about which I received no feedback, so I’m not sure what exactly they were expecting. But still, constructive criticism is worthwhile and I had spent the group discussion session noting their comments and corrections. I’m a student and that’s how it works.

Her reaction to feedback though was just amazing. It was as though she were confronting a petulant child, but in truth I’m at least her age and I sat there calmly trying to have a worthwhile conversation when she nearly exploded. I looked at the other teacher as though to say “what’s up?” but I couldn’t get a good read. Fortunately for everyone involved, we were interrupted by the timely arrival of the department administrator to gather everyone for a birthday party.

My understanding is that this woman is an accomplished film maker, but I fear she’s just another example of someone brilliant at what she does but who can’t teach to save her life. For my tuition dollars I have the privilege of watching this woman flail about while managing not to convey any of her expertise or experience. Pity.

What’s worse is that I think this woman is probably a person I’d like to get to know. The semester ends in a few weeks, and we have a final project for the class. What I’d really like to do would be to just sit down with her and talk through the various issues. I find how she and the other teacher have conducted class to be completely unprofessional, and it breaks down to not communicating effectively, not being able to schedule their way out of a wet paper bag, and not being able to handle constructive criticism. The thing is, I’m sure I’ve managed to completely piss them off, but I don’t know just what it is that I’ve done. So I’d really like to be able to put to them my opinion, but also I’d really like to know what it is that I’m doing that bugs them.

Anyway, I think I’ve spent more than enough processing time on the situation in that class, and now I’d rather just go to sleep. But as there’s still more wine in this here bottle, a few words about music. I have an iPod Nano which I keep filled via a Smart Playlist that copies over everything I’ve added to my library over the last six months. It’s only 4GB, but it used to be just about right to hold the last six months or so of music. At the moment, it’s only about half full, which is a problem. I’ve hardly bought any new music since classes started. I listen to the radio online, but it’s not the same as really listening to a CD from start to finish.

So this week I picked up a handful of CDs, and a few are on their way to me in the post. I’m sure I’ll talk about more of them in the future, but at the moment I’m listening to the sad sounds of Elliott Smith.

Many influential musicians have died suddenly, at the height of their career, leaving a void. For my generation, Kurt Cobain may be the most prominent among them. While I like Nirvana as much as the next guy, there’s very little about their music with which I readily identity. But Elliott Smith, he spoke to me. I had the pleasure of seeing him play a handful of times in London, and I’m so glad I did. Even then, after he had had a song nominated for an Academy award, he seemed ill at ease with big crowds. I came to know his music by association, in that I’m a big fan of another musician from Portland named Pete Krebs, and I wish I had been able to see Elliott in the same small venues I watched Pete and sometimes bought him a pint.

Right now I’m listening to New Moon, a compilation of rarities and unreleased tracks from 1994 to 1997. I can’t judge if it’s a good collection. For me it’s getting a taste of a vintage that I thought had been completely consumed, and I cannot judge. I can merely be grateful for the experience.

That said, it’s a good CD. There’s a Big Star cover, an “early version” of Miss Misery, and 22 other tracks, so who can complain. I’m trying to treat it as though it’s all new material, and in that it works well, which let’s me hope there could be more someday, even though I know there won’t.

Anyway, I’ve written too much and for too long, so until next time…

So I’m 2/3rds of the way through this semester and it’s going strangely well.  I’ve been on three teams, completed three projects, and received three A’s.  The same is true for the three papers I’ve had graded.  Somehow though, it’s feeling a bit hollow.

First off, part of it is that this is graduate school, so grades really don’t matter so much.  No one cares about your GPA for your second or third degree.  Secondly, I get the impression that grades are somewhat inflated.  I have asked around a bit and I some papers and projects have been given B’s, but only a few, and I think they were mostly the first efforts.

Tough problem to have, eh?  Well I guess it’s just a bit disappointing in that I feel like I could be doing better work if I had more motivation, but if I can get the highest grade without working as hard as possible, why should I bother?

Maybe the lesson I should be learning here is that you get out of graduate school what you put into it, or something similarly wholesome.  But you know, I’m just immature enough that I can get my head around grades not mattering.   I like the reassurance from decent grades that lets me know I’m on the right track, but that doesn’t work if I know grades are inflated.

Well I’m trying to look on the good side of things.  I’m learning a great deal, even if it’s not with the amount of pain I was expecting.  I’m also still trying to push things up a notch to some extent.  I put much more effort into my last paper than any of the earlier ones, so if it’s possible to get an A+ I’m hoping I’ll do just that.   But I think in general I’m just trying to take on board as much as I can while cultivating other interests in life, and obviously keeping up with my drinking.

So while this has all been happening, I’ve been keeping up on my music, though it hasn’t been the same either.  For instance, I’m really liking the new Maximo Park CD but it doesn’t mean what it would have a couple of years ago.  It’s not that the lyrics or the songs aren’t as good - on the contrary they’re better than ever.  It’s just that a number of the tracks are about heart break and unquited love, and I’m not there right now.  Despite my whining about various topics, things are actually pretty good right about now.

Yes, it’s true - I really like songs that are tragic.  They’re of great comfort when I’m going through a tragic time of life, but at times such as these when things are good, I do miss the resonance they have at other times.

Again, this is column is about tough problems - A’s when I don’t deserve them, and not being able to relate to tragic songs as much as I was once able.  Tough life, eh?

So it’s getting late here, and I’ve been enjoying a delightful mix of Blackwood’s Vintage Dry Gin with San Pellegrino Mandarino, and it’s doing the trick. I’m in the state where if I had anything interesting to do, it would potentially be a lot more fun, at the expense of me not remembering so much of it. I can’t really say I have a whole lot up my sleeve at this hour, but at least by writing there will be some record of how nice things feel right at this moment.

The problem with being coy and relatively anonymous is that when I have potential content I have to consider if sharing it will convey too much information as to who I am. As I think I said somewhere, it’s not as though anyone other than a small handful of people on the planet know me anyway, but at the same time those are the people about whose opinions I actually care. And I’m feeling really insecure about using “whose” as opposed to “who’s”. (Just looked it up and I hope I’m OK.)

Anyway, it’s time to let loose a nugget and admit I’m a student. It’s a bit of a red herring in that I’m not of typical student age, but I’ve said too much already, or at least for now. So this is pertinent in that today we had group projects due for presentation. This semester all the big work is project based and done in groups. My group presented, and I thought it went really well. The other three groups ranged from minor to serious train wrecks. I had a hard time watching some of their presentations, in that they were just complete misfires. By some happy fluke, my group presented first, and frankly we were spot on. There certainly was room for improvement, but we delivered and the guests who were present as our audience were very happy.

So, what has me blogging at the moment is that the instructors decided that instead of grading us today, everyone gets another week to sort out their projects. That’s fine. Our group can use some of the week to make changes, though generally we were in good shape. But really, I’m feeling somewhat ripped off. (I really did try to think of a way to avoid a dangling preposition, but couldn’t come up with one.) Our stuff worked, everyone else fell over, and I’d prefer to run away with a great grade while everyone else gets dinged. And we’d be on to another project/group, which can be a good thing. But no, we keep our groups another week, we keep our projects another week, and we polish what’s already a great project. I think I’ll be sleeping late and thinking about my other classes this week.

And hey, Google has finally noticed that there is a blog here, which I’m thinking is a good thing. I don’t really know why I want people to read this, but I do. It’s a weird selfish thing - this site is all about me, but I want other people to see it and to comment on it.

Speaking of which, one of the comments from a drunk was that he/she hoped for more interesting content for drunks when he/she arrived. While I understand, this site isn’t really about drunks in general so much as it’s about giving me a place to post when I’m drunk. I think drunk people should have interesting and entertaining places to go, but this little corner of the world is all about me.

I think I’ll end now as I’m listening to “This Monkey’s Gone To Heaven” by The Pixies and it’s perfect. (Note to self - more songs are perfect while drunk.) Take care.

Another busy few days and here I am settling down with a new tipple. I have before me a glass filled with a combination of Bundaberg rum, Bundaberg ginger beer, and crushed ice. I’ve read such a combination is a variation on something called Dark & Stormy, and it’s not half bad. I’m missing the lime, but I can’t really be asked at this late hour.

Lots of trivial stuff happening, so for lack of anything more topical I’ll just kick off. First off, I’m living in a rented house, and while it’s over the top in terms of no expense spared, it’s also a bit unwieldy and not completely squared away. My current piece of work is in getting a happy home network. Fascinating stuff, I know, but hey, you’re the one reading.

For a start, I had a second phone line installed. The first one is used by the cable box, the alarm system, and for the emergency phone in the lift, so it was agreed when I signed the rental agreement that I’d get a line for my own use, meaning ADSL, which is fair enough. Unfortunately, when it was installed the local telco guy couldn’t figure out the setup and ended up replacing the existing line with the new one. So two lines made it into the house, but everything was wired to one of them and the other wasn’t used at all.

This wasn’t initially a big deal, but immediately the alarm system started to complain, and when it complained it would dump the ADSL connection. This typically happened an hour into any particular session online, but as I’m not home all that much, it wasn’t absolutely killing me. Still, annoying. Fortunately that’s sorted as of this past week.

So now I have the basics, in terms of a connection that doesn’t just die randomly, and I’m trying to get the place covered in terms of wireless. I started with a Belkin modem and an Airport Extreme box to provide wireless for the place, but alas it’s only effective on a single floor. Running between the the ground and first floor is a terrazzo floor, which I’m guessing blocks pretty much everything except depleted uranium rounds.

So back to this house. Someone put some time and/or money into the entertainment system. There are three big plasma TVs and a little flat screen TV in the kitchen. There’s some central Bose audio system that includes speakers in various zones. Frankly, I don’t make especially good use of it, so in some ways it’s really just here mocking me as I listen to radio over the Internet.

But I digress. On thing I noticed early on is that in some of the rooms there is a cluster of outlets which includes a pair of co-axial cables and two RJ-45 jacks. I finally decided to investigate them tonight and it turns out in the hi-fi cabinet there are a bunch of Cat-5 cables. Three are bundled together with room names written on them, so I figured Bob’s my uncle. I hooked up a small router in the hi-fi cabinet and of the three only one actually seems to go to a jack in another room. That may actually be enough to get coverage with a second wi-fi box, but I am really curious what’s happening with the wiring in this place. Once I have something that works, I’ll worry about figuring out what else needs to be sorted.

At this point I’ve really written about nothing, and I’m tempted to leave it at that, but now after a few drinks it’s time to rant about people who want to buy this domain. Broadly speaking, they fall into three categories: people who want to put it to a good use, people who are drunk and think it would be cool to own the domain, and people who want to make money by selling it onward.

I have little time for those who would put it to good use. I know lives are ruined everyday by alcohol abuse, but frankly it’s not got a lot to do with me, and I’d rather have this domain sit idle than see it used for something wholesome.

Then there are drunk people who want to own the domain. To be honest I haven’t seen so much action from them now that I’m writing. Instead they submit comments which I read and eventually delete. I’m generally sympathetic in that as someone who enjoys getting drunk and owning the domain name, I understand the attraction.

Then there are the people who are in the business. Some are pretty reasonable - they start out asking if it’s for sale and offering cash. I tell them it’s not for sale and that’s that. Totally professional and they move on to something else. But then there are people who won’t take no for an answer. I had one of them this past week.

So he started with the usual “Would you please consider selling me the name?” I sent him “we are not interested in selling the domain” and directed him to the page detailing my disinterest in selling. He had a whole story about how he liked to drink, how he’d never let the domain fall into the hands of people like Mothers Against Drunk Driving and how he ended up getting caught driving drunk. After telling him no, he wanted to know if I had any other domains for sale, and when I told him that if I wanted to sell anything I would advertise it instead of waiting for the first offer from a vulture. He did end up making an offer higher than any prior offers, but frankly he lost me when he started his email with “Hi friend” which I find amazingly offputting for some reason. And hey, if something isn’t for sale, it’s not for sale. Eventually I lost patience with his annoyance and just told him to go away.

So it’s really time to sleep and I’ve been writing many words about nothing at all. In terms of music, the only drunken insight I have at the moment is that Snow Patrol’s Set The Fire To The Third Bar is not Damien Rice’s Rootless Tree. For some reason, which was almost certainly a fair amount to drink, I thought they were in fact a single song. I like them both, for nearly the same reason, but they’re not the same. I have the same problem with The Killers and Razorlight, in that I heard their first CDs during the same summer, and their follow-up releases came out at just about the same time as well. Again, I like them both, I have all of their respective CDs, but I can’t tell them apart to save my life.

I did manage to get up in time for the ANZAC Dawn Memorial, and I’m really glad I did. I was half expecting it to be largely veterans and their families, but was pleased to see a healthy cross-section of the population. I actually did a big write-up for someone I know in the US to give him my impressions, so I’m a little burnt out on writing about it, but I think getting into the habit of cutting and pasting between this blog and the rest of my life would be a bad idea. Let me just say it was beautiful, yet understated, which I found both surprising and delightful.

But I think I’m ahead of myself. I should introduce this lovely beverage I have at hand, Pegasus Bay Pinot Noir 2004. It’s not rare or expensive by any means, but I like it both for its delicate taste and the memories I have of drinking it with someone special. But I digress…

One thing that is worth