Battles with my phone

It's been an uneventful week. I'm still grappling with my smart phone. The touch-the-screen-and-things-happen facility is both a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse. Literally. One time I accidentally activated a function whereby anything you say is displayed on the screen. Before I knew what I'd even pressed, "oh f*** off" appeared, asterisks and all. I never felt the need to swear at my dumb phone. And I only had to charge it twice a week. I can't imagine booking flights on my smart phone or anything clever like that. Way too fiddly. Apparently you can download an app for that, but it's not like I book flights every day. On the other hand it's great to know that I have a camera in the exact same place as I have my alarm clock. And if I wanted to see who's updated their Facebook status I could do that too, in the exact same place. If I was actually on Facebook, that is.

Ever since social media became really big I've been trying to figure out why I haven't engaged in it. It's not as if I've made any big conscious decision to disengage in it; I've just never been drawn to it at all. And it's not like I feel smug about not wanting to go anywhere near Facebook and the like. On the contrary, I wonder what's wrong with me. I think I've finally figured it out. I'm interested in people. I care about people. In some cases, I care about them a lot. But I care about them on a purely individual basis. If I connect with people, I prefer to do so individually, not a dozen or more at a time. I've rarely felt part of a group or team. Of course I do spew out this blog to many thousands of people (!), but I think of all my followers as individuals rather than one big group. So that's what's wrong with me, or different at the very least.

My brother's ex wrote and shared a lot of pretty nasty stuff about him on Facebook, which she later deleted. So that's another reason to avoid it. I got a text from my brother last week; there was a lot of anti-NZ sentiment there. Mum and Dad hope that he joins the army again on his return to England. I have mixed feelings about this. No question, being an elite soldier is what he's good at. I'm very proud of him, and a little envious because I've never shown anything like the same level of competence in any of my roles. I'm sure he'll slot right back into his army position if he rejoins, and he'll do an exceptional job. But it's the whole war thing I have a problem with. He put his life squarely on the line three times, and for me that's enough, especially because one of those times was (as far as I could see) a result of a complete fabrication by various politicians.

I attended the Anzac Day service at the National War Memorial which is almost literally right on my doorstep. All the road works (building the new Memorial Park in time for the 100th anniversary of Gallipoli in two years) and repairs to the bell tower detracted a bit from the ceremony. Still it's important that we remember, and it has some extra significance for me due to what I said in the previous paragraph. It's interesting that Anzac Day has in some ways overtaken Waitangi Day (or Bob Marley Day as I call it) as our national day. I can see people want to get away from the divisiveness we see on Waitangi Day, but in recent years going to Anzac Day parades - even getting up at five o'clock to go to dawn services - has for some reason become fashionable.

I saw this article in the Dom Post on Monday about the Wellington region's economy compares to that of Auckland and Christchurch. It gave some statistics about Wellington, presenting them under the headings "good", "bad" and "ugly". In the "bad" section it gave three pieces of information:
1. House prices in Wellington haven't gone up recently like they have in Auckland and Christchurch.
2. Wellington, with its large public sector workforce, has one of the least diverse business sectors. Only Nelson is ranked worse.
3.  Business units: Business size growth in Wellington since 2002 is below national average.

Right, number two I agree with. That's not good. But why are ever-increasing house prices a good thing? And why is bigger business necessarily better? Somebody please explain.

92.5% of the world's population...

...are not on Facebook. That's a pretty overwhelming majority and they can't all be wrong; the remaining half a billion people who insist on all that social networking bollocks really need to get with the program.

To me Facebook sounds like one giant pain in the arse. Until someone can convince me that I should join up, I'm staying right out of it. You have to tell everyone what you've been doing every five minutes (or is that Twitter?) and upload photos constantly, presumably photos with people in them. And then there's this business of accumulating friends as if they were football stickers or baseball cards. If I was on Facebook I know I'd only have four friends, or something pathetic, while the bloke in the upstairs flat has 382. I feel inferior enough as it is, thanks. And what if you decide someone isn't your friend any more? You have to "unfriend" or "defriend" them, and that sounds rather messy. Best to avoid it altogether.

Last week the job search was really starting to get me down. Maybe I am unemployable after all, I began to think. Who would ever want me in their company? I've got plenty of skills and qualifications, but none of the ones that really matter, i.e. people skills. Next Wednesday I'll be meeting one of the recruitment agents and for that reason I decided to get a haircut yesterday. This was a shame; my hair hadn't been cut since that job interview and it was the longest I'd had it in eight years. Sure, I was beginning to look a bit like a caveman, but why shouldn't I look like the person I really am? I had my hair done in the city where it was quick and painless. I also bought two CDs in Real Groovy costing $6 between them, one by the French group Matmatah (unfortunately I didn't like this one nearly as much as an earlier album of theirs) and the Cranberries' To The Faithful Departed. I really must stop listening to such depressing music. I heard the George Thorogood song "Get a Haircut and Get a Real Job" on the radio today; if only the second part of that equation was as simple as the first. I have some good news at least: that publishing company want some more puzzles from me. Only ten, but it's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.

Last Wednesday Richard invited me round to his place; he lives in a boarding house in Remuera, built in 1855 (by New Zealand standards that's seriously old). Upwards of fifteen people live there and I can understand why he's thinking of moving out. Still, it was great to see him in his own habitat, so to speak. He cooked a very good meal and gave me the excellent news that he's now got a job on the phones at BNZ. He starts on Monday so they're not hanging around. To be honest I never expected him to get something as mainstream as that (and I hope I'm not being prejudiced against people with Asperger's by saying that) but good luck to him. I hope it all works out.

I've had my worst day ever of badugi today, losing $65. In my first session, on the 25c/50c tables, I dropped $17 in 124 hands. Worse was to follow as I dumped $39 in 114 hands on a 50c/$1 table, all laws of probability disappearing out the window. The whole lexicon of badugi nightmares came into play as I was monstered left, right and centre, normally by someone who called three bets pre-draw and drew three. My 5432 ran into number two in a massive pot in a display of rampant badugiflation. After a while I wondered whether it was all some sick joke and my opponents were drawing cards from some special deck stripped of all high cards and unhelpful suits. In my last session (at 20/50) I ran red hot in comparison, losing just nine bucks. The good news is that I'm still up $308 on the month and a lot more overall thanks to that big SCOOP result. It was funny cashing that cheque. "So where did it come from?" "Er, the internet," was all I felt I could say.