My Dump

Last night, I dreamt that I was 18 years old. I was in a place I'd never seen before and talking to people I'd never met before. An old man told me to take my time deciding on what I should study in university. 'You have your whole life ahead of you' he said. I felt like I could fly. I woke up, 20 years older and full of regrets.

I am a collossal hypochondriac and a germophobe. For this reason, the universe always sits the coughing wheezing snifflers in front of or next to me on trains and buses (and airplanes). Today I found myself in front of a violent throat clearer. Everytime he did it, I shook in my seat. But that wasn't it. As he read his free paper, he picked his nose. Not just lightly or fleetingly. He was digging deep. He was fracking for shale gas deep. Having satisfied himself, he rolled his quarry between thumb and index and wiped it on the seat. Now I don't want to sit in a train or read a free paper or even leave the house ever again.

The London Underground was in meltdown today. I was forced to walk from Baker Street to Rathbone Place. I had to get in on time or I'd be toast. A lot of people were out on the street. A short guy in skinny jeans walked very slowly in front of me near Portland Place. I could see he was brandishing something in his left hand by the way his elbow hung out. He was giving it his full attention. 'Hey Dickhead', thought I. 'I'm late for work. Shove that smartphone up your arse and step out of my way!!' When I walked past, I saw that he was holding not a phone, but a paper tray holding three cups of hot coffee.

I decided to attend the Softimage Übertage event in Siegen, Germany today. It would be the last one held in the wake of Autodesk killing Softimage. I thought it would be nice to see off my favourite tool and network with some German VFX people. After a long and enjoyable day (including a great demo from Eric Mootz), a majority of us went to a nearby restaurant for drinks and burgers. I sat at a table with some wonderful artists from Amsterdam and Brussels and some reps from Side Effects software. We talked about our jobs, our countries and our views on a great number of things. I regaled them with tales of adventure during which I distilled the heart of man's darkness and got a fair few laughs. Finally, having gorged on my burger like a pig at the trough, I rose and bid them all goodbye. I shook each one by the hand and ran like hell to my train. Once on board, I realized that I had forgotten to pay for my meal. The German VFX industry now knows me very well b...

I'm sure everyone knows that awkward moment when you come across a stranger walking in the opposite direction; when each of you tries to bypass the other, but you both repeatedly step in the same direction, forever perpetuating the blockage. After the seventh time you feel the need to find humor in the situation. You grin idiotically and shake your head. What a lark, eh? Your opponent doesn't see the funny side; he or she will decide to blow past you with an exasperated huff that non-verbally says 'fuck off idiot'. I hate it when that happens. I would rather walk into a raging stampede of burning buses than go through it. But every time I walk down Oxford Street, I have to endure this shit three or four times on a good day. Anyway, I think this situation needs a name that everyone can recognize. How about calling it the 'Block 'n' Grin'? Or the 'Awkward Mutual Impasse'?

When travelling on the London Underground, one is expected to allow passengers to get off the train before getting on. It's polite and conducive to efficiency. This morning as always, I stood to the side of the door as should be done. As soon as the door was open, a throng of arseholes (basically everyone but me) stampeded on-board with little regard for etiquette or rules. I eventually managed to squeeze in backwards, pushing against the mass with my buttocks just long enoug h (I hoped) for the doors to close. A short and rotund Indian schoolboy approached the carriage. To get an idea of his appearance, imagine a brown billiard ball in a navy school uniform and a teenage moustache. He made for my door. If Archimedes had it right, the train would overflow if this little soldier tried to come on board. I was having none of it. I took advantage of the fact that those by my side were facing inwards while I was facing outwards. They would not see what I was doing. As the...

Today didn't go well. The trains in the morning were a shambles (hey, what's new). I realised that I'd missed another deadline. I skipped lunch to fix a problem which was not my fault (I swear, it was ZBrush fucking with me). Finally, the workday ended. It was raining buckets when I started for home. I didn't carry an umbrella, despite owning several. In my experience, it has rarely come in handy when I remembered to take one out. I got very wet. I got even wetter when walki ng under the scaffolding outside Bodyshop (or was it Uniqlo? I'm not sure). When walking down the escalator in Oxford Circus. I slipped on the wet floor with both feet. I flew up in the air. I flew so high that on the way down, I had a go at the Sudoku in yesterday's Evening Standard (the easy one. I could never manage the middle or hard ones). When I finally landed, the thud I made with my 90 kilo mass caused tremors that will have surprised any local seismologists. I was ...