Onward!!

A frantic phone call brought a chill into a warm, pleasant evening. Apparently the guy upstairs has done it again. This time, the flatmate started hearing the sound of a running bath from above our kitchen. Thinking it was odd, she stayed to listen, and that’s when water started flowing from the ceiling. Like, not dripping, but flowing. She was just going to go and tell the guy to quit whatever he was doing when she ran into our downstairs neighbour. She was just coming to see what was up in our flat because water was dripping down from her kitchen ceiling!

So, they knock on the guy’s door, and apparently he was stoned out of his mind or something, because he “hadn’t noticed” that the kitchen taps were running full blast and that water was flowing down the cabinet sides. He thought the sink wasn’t full yet, he said.

Apparently, he did shut off the tap then and there, but it begs the question of what kind of mental you have to be to do something like that. And it’s not the first time he’s left things running – there was that whole scare with him leaving the gas on and it filling the whole building.

Now, the water has welled up these big splotchy patterns in the kitchen, and increased the ones already there. I am so glad I’m getting out of that house as soon as possible. To where, I don’t know yet. Hopefully someplace with a more decent neighbours. Let’s see how the landlord thinks he’ll “fix” this.

Really, having a chance to do pointless things I wouldn’t be able to do elsewhere was a part of my reasoning to want to come and live in London. On Monday, St. George’s Day, I had a chance to do just that with a world record breaking attempt at Trafalgar Square. The objective? To have as many people as possible playing coconuts to the tune of Always Look on the Bright Side of Life. And we succeeded, having a great time in the process. Some people had magnificently dressed up for the occasion.

Everyone was in good spirits, and a lot of people stayed on after the attempt, sitting festival-style on the ground, to watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail, merrily clip-clopping with their coconuts each time a riding scene came on, not to mention the choruses of “Let’s not go to Camelot, it is a silly place”, “Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelled of elderberries” and “We are the knights who say NI!”

An unexpected trip to the seaside could not have come at a better time. God knows I needed a break. Of course, it meant an entire day of not studying, but I guess the mind’s refreshment is worth a lot.

So, I ended up in Bognor Regis of all places, to spend a Sunday with a bunch of friends. The day was warm, though not hot, and we spent it mostly relaxing on the rocky beach. I tested the water, and it wasn’t too bad. It felt like the Gulf of Finland in early summer. It must be because the channel and the Atlantic never freeze, and the Gulf Stream brings constant warmth into the waters surrounding Britain. All in all, it was very pleasant.

The sea really was magnificent. Seeing a proper expanse of water calmed me instantly – in a way it was like coming home after a long absence. Literally the first rock I picked up turned out to be a fossilized shell of some kind, but I didn’t keep it in the end. I’m glad I’ve handled real fossils “in the wild” though. I also noticed these things, which I assume to be the signs of some animal burrowing in the sand. They looked sort of slimy, but were actually just piled-up sand. In the bottom right corner of the picture you can also see a little circular pit that I assume is some sort of trap with a hungry little sea creature at the bottom, waiting for prey. Any ideas what they are called?

Bognor Regis isn’t a special town by any means, but I’m glad I got out of London for a change. I got to try “real” fish and chips, eating them outside with the sea breeze in my hair, which was nice. I guess a lot of the seaside resort towns are similar, but only Bognor Regis hosts a competition where people launch themselves off the pier in an attempt to glide the farthest. That I can get behind.

Derren Brown’s new show, Trick or Treat, really left me thinking tonight. He managed to get his target, a 31-year old IT consultant, to think he was a ventriloquist’s dummy. In a dark, surreal music hall, populated by a cardboard audience, the target slowly took on the persona of the dummy he stood next to and was asking questions from. First only hearing the dummy’s “voice” in his head, he eventually spoke like it, taking the posture and jerky mannerisms of the puppet.

Suddenly, Derren Brown declared the show to be over, thanking the “mind-reading doll” he had been holding. As he packed the dummy into its suitcase, the man became panicked and restless. As the suitcase lid closed, he shouted, still in the imagined dummy’s raspy voice: “It’s dark! I can’t see! Don’t leave me!” Brown withdrew offstage, leaving the man shambling blindly around the stage, now shouting, in his own voice, that he didn’t think being left alone in the dark was funny.

It was quite powerful, actually. Surely, should ventriloquist’s dummies feel, they would be frightened of the enclosed darkness of the suitcase, and of being left alone the moment the show is finished? The magic of the theatre gone, the lights out and silence around you – being alone anywhere can be frightening.

Click the above image to see the damage that has mysteriously appeared on my Nikon D-70 SLR camera. There’s a noticeable crack in the screen that protects the display, but it and the camera seem to work all right nonetheless.

I guess they’re bound to get hits and bumps here and there, but it still is unfortunate. I guess there’s no choice but to take it to a Nikon dealer and ask them what exorbitant price they charge for replacing the part. I just wouldn’t have the time for this kind of thing right now.

What is it with stuff breaking lately?