All 3 entries tagged Rants

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April 12, 2005

I can't leave the place for a week…

Well I'm back from across the pond. I had a great time, met some interesting and lovely people and saw a lot of interesting stuff there. Some picture uploads and possibly a blog post to follow on this. Right now, having been up for 27 hours straight including a 6 1/2 hour flight and a 2 hour drive home after that, I am really a bit too tired to bother. I have, however, managed to retain just enough energy to make this short rant.

I leave the country for what, 11, 12 days? I come back to my grandfather having crashed his car, people having been in hospital and recovering, andon top of it all, petrol has taken another massive hike. It's now running at around 86, 87p a litre. What the hell is happening? The world is going mad I tell you. All they have to do is pump the stuff out of the ground and refine it a bit. In Canada it was about 80 to 84 cents a litre, back here it's now more than that and the currency is worth 2.5 times as much. The crazy world in which we live.

March 31, 2005

Thoughts on 'just jobs'

Today I'm going to be discussing (read: ranting) what I term 'just jobs'.

I currently have a lot of things on. I have a massive project type dissertation thing which I'm having to rush through at a late moment (my fault, I lack organisation when it comes to things I don't want to do). So naturally, I'm currently going through a phase where my odd-jobbing seems to be highly in demand with just jobs. These are so called because I always hear "Oh, could you just do this" "Just have a look at that" etc etc. And the job takes forever.

Last night for example, our washing machine broke. I foresaw this when I first got home three weeks ago. The washing machine was on at the time, and I thought it sounded rather unhealty. In no uncertain terms, I explained to my mum that the bearings on it were shagged. "Oh, so that's why it's making that noise". Yes, mum. So don't use it any more and get it sorted out. I have repeatedly reminded her of this since, and nothing has been done. Three weeks later, we're having a drink in the evening when there's a trememdous bang from the kitchen while the washing machine was on it's final cycle. So I have to drag the washing machine out at 8PM and have a look at it, instead of doing my project. Now, the dumb gits who built our house made the gap about 1cm too small, so it's wedged in there as tight as can be. This then takes half an hour to shift out, with much cursing, and at the end of this my back is shafted. What do I hear? Thanks? Hell no. "I told you so! You silly boy!" shrieks mother at the top of her voice. Thanks mum. Well anyway, the bearings were shot and thanks to my mum's inaction on my advice a mounting has been ripped and the motor clutch has packed in too, so it's now beyond economic repair and she's had to get a new one, which I'll "just" have to go and install after I finish this message. Lesson learned mother: listen to me when I tell you something is going to break.

So, sleeping overnight having helped back issues a bit, I started work again this morning. Got a bit done, had a break by going and mowing the lawn which was ok cos I was gonna do that anyway and I enjoy that. But one of our garden tractors wouldn't start. So I spend a good while hot-wiring the safety switches and things, determined this wasn't the sole cause of the problem as it still wouldn't go, and was in the middle of investigating further when I get another 'just job' – go take my sister for a driving lesson. Fine, I'll go do that, although it's boring as hell and why can't somebody else do it. 3/4 of an hour later, I get back, and mum has showed up with her car, she 'just' wants the oil changed. Fair enough on this one actually, it was booked for me to do today and it's not a long job. So I need to wash it off first, because my mum never washes her car and I'm damned if I'll work on a car that's 10% metal, 10% rust and 80% cow shit. So I'm now working under a car that's dripping cold muddy water on me. Lovely. And to compound the job, the oil filter has been done up tighter than a nun's lady-bits by the mechanic that changed it last (not me). I broke a couple of filter wrenches with the effort of trying to get the thing off, then had to resort to the old technique of hammer and screwdriver. So a 15 minute oil change job takes 2 1/2 hours, and at the end I'm totally plastered in oil, mud, water and the like. Excellent.

Just jobs. Accept at your peril kids.

January 26, 2005

Not best pleased right now

It's taken a little longer than I originally thought, but I finally got irritated enough today to really have a public rant. It concerns the availability of parking on campus (or lack thereof).

I left home in loads of time this morning for my 11 o'clock, earlier than usual actually. Had a pleasant drive in, sun streaming through etc. I arrive on campus at 10:40 to find the place completely awash with cars. Car parks 7, 8, 8A, 6 and 15 were all completely full, not a space. By this time it's 10:55 so really thinking I need to get a space. Abandoning all hope of getting a space on central campus, I go to university house, guaranteed to have a space surely? DENIED. No spaces there either. Now I know it's winter graduation today, but really you'd think the university would have had some planning into doing something about parking that stretches further than sending out a few men in fluorescent yellow jackets and a couple of "Car park full" signs. Very helpful guys. So I've spent 20 minutes looking around for a space, gotten so irritated and driven so hard that I'd now shredded yet another set of Pirelli's and still I'm going to miss my lecture because the university can't organise car parking.

I pay £110 a year to park my car on campus. I don't have a bus service from my home, and even if I did then that would hardly be the point. For the money I expect a space that means that I don't get a disrupted education (which I pay for) by having to miss lectures (and waste a 40 mile round trip in the process). If it's not enough money to provide enough spaces, then fine, charge me more. I don't much care. Just make sure I get a damned space so I can park. I don't use the bus for 2 very good reasons: 1) I hate them – they suck, they're slow, inconvenient, you have no privacy and you can't carry much stuff and 2) There is no service from where I live. Sort it out guys. Now.

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