Showing posts with label Week 9. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Week 9. Show all posts

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Week 9 - Andy - Advice

I am not qualified to give advice on any subject save one. It’s unlikely that you are looking to run a national advertising campaign to launch a new mobile phone tariff. The following, therefore is some advice that (while I am absolutely unqualified), I feel comfortable sharing.


1) If you are furious with someone or something, drink some water, wait ten minutes, and then react - Irritability is the first sign of dehydration - you’d hate to be half way through a blazing row and discover that the only reason you’re so worked up is that you forgot to grab a bottle of Volvic with your lunch.


2) When cooking, go with your gut, when baking, follow the recipe - I am bad at accurately following instructions, so my baking is awful. I am good at on-the-fly repairs and adjustments, my cooking is passable.


3) Technology will not go backwards - SCART will never be a standard you’re likely to use again. Throw those leads away. Minidisk, on the other hand is a technology that will never die.


4) If you learn to fix things yourself, you’ll have a huge amount of guilt when you don’t have time to, and are reluctant to pay someone else to do it instead. The object will go unrepaired and you will feel bad. It’s better than being ripped off.


5) I hang on to all important-looking post. No one has ever asked me for any of it. I’m scared to throw it out, just in case. Don’t be me. I will die, crushed under a pile of promotional mailouts from my insurance company.


6) Sharp knives are safer than blunt ones.


7) You can’t ever completely win an argument with someone you care about. Find a way that works for everyone, and stay focused on the one issue you’re dealing with. Arguing sucks, but capitulating, so as to avoid it, ultimately breeds as much resentment as forcing someone else to give in. It’s probably best to avoid any resentment with people you love.


8) Some quick rules for air travel: a) Never check luggage unless absolutely avoidable. b) Sit as far towards the front of the plane as possible. It’s quieter, and you can disembark first. c) Pack and dress, knowing you have to go through security. d) It’s ok to drink at ludicrous times if you’re spending more than 10 hours travelling. e) Charge your phone and computer when you have the opportunity.


9) That thing you haven’t tried could be the best thing in the world. And you won’t know if you haven’t tried it. (The Chicken Teriyaki principle)


10) Getting rid of possessions is more fun than acquiring new ones.


11) Learning anything new is always good. People who see life differently have more to offer you than people who see life the same way. Therefore, don’t discount anyone on the basis that you don’t share interests.


12) If you are going to cook duck breast, trim and score the fat, season, and put it skin side down in a cold pan on a hot hob. Periodically drain the fat and use this to make amazing roast potatoes. You’re welcome, weightwatchers!


13) If you are going to meet new people, and want to come across well, bring some breath mints. You will be more confident - your breath will be one less thing to worry about.


14) Buy nice glasses. It’s no fun drinking cocktails from a wine glass, or a nice Malbec from a tumbler.


15) Make room in your freezer for ice cubes. Buy big bags from the supermarket- ice makes any drink feel like an occasion. Also - you can use ice cubes to coagulate the fat from roasting juices, to speed up gravy-making.


16) Ikea furniture is easy to build, but difficult to keep looking well.


17) It’s hard to find the perfect cafe for reading. If you do - don’t tell everyone about it.


18) Life is too short to finish bad books.


19) Eating alone in a restaurant can be a lovely way to spend an evening in a foreign city. Bring a good book, order a demi-carafe of wine, and relax.


20) Buy new socks to feel like a millionaire on the cheap. Iron your underpants as a special treat. Keep one or two shirts you only wear for special occasions.

Week 9 - Laura - Advice

“Seize the day - carpe diem,” my best friend Alison coaxed. “It’ll be a great experience and an even better story,” my workmate Mark argued. “You’ll regret it if you don’t, it’s not like you’ll be in South Africa again anytime soon,” my brother Dave advised. “I wouldn't do it if you paid me a million quid,” my Mam said. “Please, please, please can we?,” my husband Sean begged.

They say your mother knows best. It turns out she was the only one worth listening to, this time at least.

“Get up close and count the teeth for the thrill of a lifetime!,” the brochure read. Sean seemed to think that was an argument in favour of going shark cage diving off the coast of Hermanus. I was almost certain coming face to face with a Great White would cancel out my ability to count, and naively I’d already added the graphic description to the list of reasons why a tour of a local township would be a better idea altogether.

Fear of missing out convinced me in the end. That, and the two Ls that hold sway in my life - love and laziness. If Sean was going to be eaten by a shark then I didn't want to hang around without him. And even if I did, I figured repatriating his body would be a job for someone with a lot more enthusiasm for bureaucracy than me.

As a result, we showed up by the harbour at an hour of this morning nobody on holiday should have to see. After meeting our 
cage mates, Dick the captain set sail for the spot that’s now directly above us. Giddy with nerves, I followed the others into the cage where, according to the plan, we’d have a gander at passing sharks.

It turns out what we blithely hopped into was a communal coffin instead. I'm not sure what happened, but seconds after we’d all gotten off the boat and into the cage there was a loud snapping sound. Now we’re plummeting toward the ocean bed, and the light that is the surface of the water is getting dimmer and dimmer.

All of this time I’d been worrying about the sharks. It turns out I’d have been better served worrying about the lynchpin, or whatever it is that kept the cage attached to the boat, instead.

I suppose looking on the bright side I always said I didn't want to die alone, so that’s something. And I guess future generations will talk about us when others have been forgotten. Not to mention that our tragic passing will no doubt make the papers back home…