Well, time to get some other stuff done around here.

AN ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE

That's been the topic of discussion lately at the AA meetings I've been attending lately. Hmmm...a message maybe? Then today's men's meeting in Surprise, AZ the topic was The Promises. Before I get into them, let me tell you about the trip there.

I was the passenger in a 1970 something Jeep. Not the mailman kind of Jeep. I forgot the model. But it's yellow and a convertable. The seat belt just barely fit! The dashboard was murderous steel. Ah those were the days. We stayed on Thunderbird and headed West until we couldn't head anymore. The meeting looked like what those that don't attend, think an AA meeting looks like. There a bunch of old men sippin worse than Montana coffee. The funny thing was that there were non-smoking signs on tables on one side of the room. The ceiling had filters called Smokeeter. They didn't work so well.

But it was a good meeting to be at. I'm going to paste below what was read and discussed at this meeting. For those in AA it's good stuff. For those not, it may seem odd.

The most boring ballet class in the world...
So as you all should know, I started taking dance classes at age 4. Being that I am now 23, I'd say I'm fairly advanced. However, if one wants to take an adult ballet class, it is automatically for beginners. Why is this? Dance schools have classes that go from age 3 to age 18, progressively advancing as the years go by. But as soon as you get to the adult level-- wham! Back to beginner. I don't get it. What exactly do they think happens to their 18-year-old students when they turn 19? Suddenly suffer from ballet amnesia? I think not!

So I went to a ballet class last night at a local dance school here in York. There were five people in the class, including myself, and we all had very different experience levels. So the teacher (who was actually really nice and a really good teacher) scaled everything to fit the more inexperienced dancers. The result: a too-short class where it was almost entirely a warm-up. At no point did my leg ever go above a 45 degree angle. I didn't break a sweat. I didn't need a drop of water from my water bottle. I have no sore muscles today.

This class is definitely not for me. Of course the more advanced classes are at weird times that clash with my normal workday... so I'm stuck. I have to either be stuck in boringville, or find another studio that has classes to fit my schedule and level of experience. Because this class is not going to get me back in shape at all, which is what I needed in the first place. Grr. I'll keep you all posted...

Here unfortunately the last news concerning the contest for the House of the architecture and the town of Hte Normandy.

Contest without continuation and prize winner project!

Sad and dismaying result for 7 teams of young people archis who as us expected some a little more. Too bad. Really damage.

Here are what that could have been.!

Send them some flowers

Flowered Up I'm cock-a-hoop* about the latest news. Bath has won something in the "Britain In Bloom" competition. "Britain In Bloom" is where cash-strapped councils prove their mismanagement skills by allocating funds to repainting lots of poles all over their territory. They then allocate even more funds to buying flowers, pay people to wobble about on hydraulic lifts and clog up traffic routes while hanging the flowers. Flowers in place, more funds are diverted towards the entertainment of a crowd of overfed people with large noses (all the better for looking down at things from), commonly referred to as "judges" by those involved with "the project" (and equally commonly referred to as "useless leeches" by council tax victims payers).The useless leeches judges spend a day or surveying the wilting floral displays, accompanied by various city officials on the lookout for new places to eat and drink. The mayor does a bit of public spouting. Everyone smiles. Backs are patted, and the judges fuck off and spend somebody else's cash. 99% of residents, of course, are unaffected by any of this until they see next year's council tax bill.Now, in the case of Bath, the council has already adequately demonstrated its mismanagement skills by allowing millions of pounds of our its money to be pissed down the huge plughole somewhere in the new Bath Spa. They must be over the moon (well, in fact, they are over the moon, it says so in the local rag) at receiving further recognition. Allow me to add my own congratulations to the heaps already piled upon them. Well done, Bath City Council!*I'm not really.

Cost of a haircut

Full Recovery Expected So, where better to go on a slightly down and introspective day than the barbers? Okay, the pub would have been my natural choice, but not a wise one in my current state of mind:'How's that bug fix going, Monkey?''Ah. Boss. Look. I'm going to have to pull your nails out one by one and bang them into your testicles with your head because you are a worthless irritating self-important collection of uselessness not even fit to be called a shemale .''Another couple of days, then? Right.'No. I settled on getting a haircut. The bloke doing the cutting had the usual conversational skills required for an intensely customer-facing job:'Hello.''Hello.'[5 minutes of silence as he wonders which brain-stimulating topic to start with]'Sun's coming out, then...''Yep.''Better than last week.''Yep.''It was really grey last week.''Yep.'[5 minutes of silence as he rummages around the mental rolodex for the next Exciting Subject]'You got the day off then?''Nope. Just came into town for lunch.''Right.'[5 minutes to calm down]'Square or tapered at the back?''Tapered.''Right.'[5 minutes of snipping at the air]'Eleven quid please.''Holy...'Yeah. Just what the doctor ordered

hey buddy.got my blog back