Hic Sunt Dracones

A few weeks back I was looking around the weather going “?” what has happened to my recalled December weather in Melbourne? And how come Christchurch is so hot and I’m not? Then I thought, shh! You want to get sued? and snuck back to my lair. That was then (December) this is now (January, for those of you not paying attention):

Melbourne today peaked at 43.1 according to the Elders (not of Zion Dan, it’s cool. It’s cool), and that is hot. And when I say HOT, I mean DAMN HOT.

Relief, however, is in sight. The weather bureau has modified its forecast of four days of 40-plus temperatures to three days with a weak change tomorrow afternoon reducing the temperature to a maximum 35 degrees.

Well! Relief is indeed in sight, a puny 35 degrees? Where I come from, my mother probably wears shorts in 35 degrees, and that is an event that usually makes the paper.

The problem is, It’s hot in the city. Hot in the city (tonight). That’s right, the problem is a 1982 hit from Billy Idol (made famous by his appearance with Adam Sandler and that girl from ET). But no, I digress, or rather, aimlessly wander around being oh so funny. Or not. Anywho, it isn’t the heat during the day that sucks so hard, at least as far as I’m concerned, it is rather the heat of the night. Also, the music of the night.

It is currently, at a little after midnight, 32.5! That is TOO DAMN HOT for sleeping. Especially with the +~5 that my room gives to “the hot”, (the Rod Laver Arena BTW apparently gives about +some on centre court. Sucks to the tennis stars)

The train tracks are buckling under all this hot and that’s just silly as far as I’m concerned. People are whining. On the one hand, it does look like Melbourne has let things slide on the public transport front for say the last decade, (not even including their epic fail with “myki”), but on the other, come on people – the train tracks are literally breaking apart under strain of THE SUN. I’m sure we could engineer around it, but to some extent I’m pretty happy with “yeah well, shit happens (and said shit happens at 40+ degrees). And canceling a train ’cause the aircon has failed? Sounds like a damn fine plan from where I’m collapsing in a pool of a zillion Melbournians jammed into a small metal tube (transmitting lol cats) thanks very muchly.

Was out at a client’s site today and a woman wandered the halls dispensing ice cream (and justice). Doesn’t she know their is a GLOBAL FINANCIAL CRISIS? Perhaps she does. Perhaps she doesn’t, either way, it was a mighty fine thing she did. And I salute her.

Played touch at a little after 7, with the temperature a little above FORTY ONE degrees. Scored a try within 15 seconds of walking onto the field. Subbed myself off. Would have had a beer if I was so inclined. Spent some time eying up the Coke.

Coke Dave, Coke.

I’m pretty sure I can do without any temperature over say, 35? I just don’t think I ever think, “yeah 35 is nice, but could we whack another few degrees on to this and really try?” Maybe even low 30s? Depends on the humidity I guess. And the serenity.

Any complaints regarding the blog can be directed to the temperature and the letter G.

PS. Phantom of the Opera doesn’t in fact suck. It just came into my mind as I typed “heat of the night”. Don’t hate the player.

PPS. Gosh, it’s almost one and we’re down to a flat 32! Go Timmy go!

PPPS. Why yes, I DO want to take off all my clothes. I do want to take guitar lessons. I do want to learn how to fly. Yes, I would like to learn Korean.

I went looking for this to tell Cardinal (FANG), and MCS, but got briefly sidetracked. But you shouldn’t be, you should watch it. And cower. And maybe try to contact Lis.

Here are some people being punched in the face in slow motion.

To continue this roundhouse kick to your head, Ben, who was Cardinal mere sentences ago, would like everyone to acknowledge that this here flea market, is just like a mini mall.

While I’m on a youtube link fun in, Beached As. Yes yes I know, it’s er, “so April 2008″? Or there abouts. But I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here and it’s amusing to me. Hmm, a quick search of mah blog, and of mah friend’s frontal lobes (maybe) suggests I haven’t. And what’s more, Ben doesn’t seem to know about it. Nic has no clear recollection of that event ever occurring, but does seem to recall a whale. (He is of course himself, part whale. (Si is too (Hi Si!)))

Anywho. Beached As, it is, or at least was before Christmas, all over the place. I have a photo somewhere from a store on Bourke Street selling the shirts, and I remember thinking that was pretty fast, from upload to youtube to proper shop (as opposed to some dingy knock off shop) in Melbourne in a few months (Although, given it is a plain white tshirt with a screen printed Beached As screen cap, we’re not exactly talking the longest lead time here). Good times.

Our grad from WA (it’s the size of Europe) thinks it’s the best thing evar. He was saying “awh no” a lot. Now I do. I can’t help myself. Nor, perhaps do I want to. OK, some few months later, I don’t say it so much. One of the girls on my touch team (another Kiwi (we have a total of three)) also thinks it is hilarious, and tries to explain it to the rest of the team. Made up of Scotsman and Australians. She’s not having much luck.

It has a facebook group. WHY?

I’m rambling, worse than normal.

Oh yes.

Joy.

Meetings.

Teleconference meetings.

I feel confident that teleconferences suck even more than normal meetings.

They suck because most people are in separate rooms. Everyone is giving it only part of their attention, the rest of it dribbling around the room as they stare at the wall, their laptops or maybe some piles of notes covering their desks. People always have assorted things going on and really nobody cares.

I’m sitting here in one as I write. Two of us sitting here in Melbourne, three or four people sitting around in various rooms in Auckland and someone on a cellphone somewhere north of Wellington.

It’s fab.

It’s scheduled for two hours, but so far, after 45 minutes, we still haven’t got to the first agenda item. It is remarkable.

So, what did everyone do over Christmas / New Years? Best comment wins a pie.

PS: Actually, I’m being a bit harsh – meetings don’t inherently suck. They’re often necessary and can be great, it’s just some meetings suck hard, and some people should never be let loose in them.