Wake up call: is technology unhealthy?

I had an excellent day today, but if you had told me that this morning I would not have believed it was possible. I set my alarm to go off at 7.45am on weekdays, aiming to get into college before 10am. As I lay in bed this morning I became aware of the fact that a)I had woken up naturally and b) there were people moving around the house. I’m normally one of the first up, so as my brain slowly registered this was not normal I decided to check my clock. 11.15am!

My frustration was immense. I had wanted to get four hours practice in before our afternoon orchestra rehearsal. I couldn’t get over the fact (as I kept telling my housemates over a rushed breakfast/brunch) that if I had planned to have the morning off I would have wanted to spend it doing something fun or interesting, not just sleeping!

However, as I calmed down on the bus to the city centre (12.16pm) I started to become aware of how good I felt. For once I was not yawning every two seconds, and my brain was raring to go. My hour of practice before orchestra was the most productive I’ve done all week, and orchestra itself was actually enjoyable. What’s more, at the end of rehearsal (5pm) when I’d usually only just have the energy to get the bus home I found myself setting up in a practice room for another two hours work.

I have not been sleeping well for the last couple of weeks, but I was not aware of quite how sleep deprived I was. It was actually a blessing that my phone alarm let me down (I’ve come to the conclusion I must have pressed something wrong when setting it). This has led me to think about modern lifestyles, and if relying on technology as much as we do is healthy. After all, what did people use before alarms or clocks were invented? They used the sun, and the cock crow, or just natural sleeping patterns. I totally rely on my alarm to unnaturally wake me each morning with the greek ringtone (it was the least harsh sounding one I had).

Going further, I recently read Dan Brown’s novel ‘Angels and Demons,’ in which he puts forward the idea of science and technology having an increasingly negative impact on the world. People used to rely on God, now they rely on science; the sun as a timing device and wake up call versus a piece of technology forcefully telling me what my schedule should be.

These thoughts are, of course, not going to stop me setting my alarm as usual tonight. However, I’m currently enjoying the fact that it’s 11.14pm and I still have the brain activity to be writing this. Yesterday evening I tried at 6pm to write one of my assessment essays and could not concentrate because I was so worn out. The essay is now complete, thanks to three glorious extra hours of snooze time.

NB. I don't have orchestra on a Sunday. I wrote this entry last thursday but have only just got around to uploading it (unreliable internet connection...and lack of time...)

An ode to Hottie

A comfort during long winter nights,
I cannot sleep without you by my side.
So small, yet such warmth,
We will never be apart,
My dear hot water bottle.

Australia's got talent...

Monday night is comedy night at the Fringe bar on Oxford Street (yes they nick London names here; Liverpool Street, Hyde Park, Paddington…and the funniest thing is that Oxford Street is the gay district). I’ve only known Fringe bar previously in its Friday night set up, complete with disco ball and Kylie tunes, so it was a pleasant surprise to find little candle lit tables and the smell of good food. Next time I won’t have dinner before going.

I say next time because, on the whole, it was a very enjoyable evening and will likely be repeated. There were two billed stand-up comedians and one ‘host’. The host was the reason for the phrase ‘on the whole.’ Each time he spoke I wanted him to stop, immediately. A wanna-be comedian with not much talent. In his first set he used the phrase ‘Yes we’re here at Fringe bar on a Monday night’ about eight times, but I’m not cruel and could forgive him monotony. He was probably nervous. No, it was his attempt at comedy which made me dislike him intently. He used the cheapest form of humour; making fun of people.

I admit that to make fun of Americans (as the first billed comedian did) or other groups of people is standard in a stand-up routine. As an audience you cannot be too defensive or sensitive, as you know they’re just playing on stereotypes. The headliner of the night filled most of his time making fun of himself. Great show.

The host, however, tried audience participation. He went around the front section of the room asking questions. When he got to our table he received such a cold response he knew to move on immediately, thank goodness. He hit his jackpot however on a couple on their third date. Many sexual innuendos followed, accompanied by many vulgar gestures. As the evening went on, he stopped using innuendos and just started being plain rude. It was like watching lad talk, but with the girl sitting right there. Not funny, just embarrassing.

I would not have wanted to experience the after date conversation, if there was any.

Old Jamaica: Worth its weight in Gold

I was meant to go to the cinema one evening this week, but it fell through. I’d therefore already mentally spent $10 (bargain Tuesday) so thought I could treat myself to something else.

What did my mind jump to? Food, naturally.

My landlord owns a little convenience store across the road from us, and I felt it was about time I paid it a visit. Now, those of you who know me well understand that I’m really bad at making decisions about food. I’m awful to go to lunch with because I will easily spend five minutes deciding over a sandwich filling. These things are important to me. There’s nothing worse than making a snap decision and then wishing you had what someone else ordered.

The plus, therefore, of food shopping on my own is that I can ponder as much as I like. I think I rather amused the girl behind the counter as I wandered up and down the aisles. As with most small food shops, the entire front section was taken up with confectionary, and mainly chocolate, so my decision was inevitable really.

With chocolate decided upon I then had to narrow it down to a particular bar. Mars bars and other really sweet creations don’t often appeal to me anymore, and especially not here when they are strangely expensive. My eye was caught momentarily by the famous American ‘Hersheys’ bar, but then I realised it was extremely thin and also costly.

The real treasure trove was in the Cadburys section. In the UK we manage such variations as ‘fruit and nut.’ Here they have Black Forest, Tiramisu, Crème Brule, Rocky Road…and then I saw it. The flavour I’ve always dreamed would be a chocolate bar: Rum and Raisin. Decision made.

When I got it home I found myself sitting on my bed simply admiring the package. It’s bigger than the average chocolate bar at 250g, and therefore has a heavy old fashioned chunkiness about it. I feel as if it should have been carried home in a brown paper bag by a little girl in a duffle coat and buckle shoes. The paper wrapping gives it a nostalgic feel, the dark gold shine promising something exotic inside.

I broke off six small squares, and how did it taste? Yummy. It’s rather like fruit and nut without the nut, with a hint of alcoholic flavouring, and the chocolate is gloriously dark. A real taste of ‘Old Jamaica.’

I find I enjoy chocolate the most when I savour every bite. Therefore I am going to slowly devour the whole bar over the next week, piece by piece, one indulgent chunk at a time…

My Desert Island

Setting up house is an interesting business. Luckily for me, I moved into a furnished place so I didn’t need to buy a bed, desk etc. Some American students are on exchange here for one semester (three months) and are renting unfurnished apartments. Mad.

Having said that, I’ve still had to buy a lot to set myself up. My philosophy when I started was to think ‘desert island’. What is the very least I can get away with? Bedding was non-negotiable, but I managed to mess up that simple task. The first night I was so cold that I hardly slept, despite wearing a full length top, hoody with hood up, tights underneath my PJ bottoms and socks. What I neglected to think about was the fact that houses here have no heating, so it’s pretty much like sleeping outside. The next day I went and bought a big duvet. That night, still attired in my many garments but with an extra layer, I was warm.
Then came the kitchen. My landlord said I had to get my own stuff to save arguments. So, desert island; I need a knife, and a pan, and really a bowl and plate would be hygienic, as would cutlery, mug, storage containers…

So you see, it starts to accumulate. I was going to do my laundry tonight (we have a washing machine, and I bought washing powder) but realised I have nowhere to dry it. Tomorrow I will buy an airer.

I’m hopefully going to stay here the whole year though, so it’ll be worth it. My flatmates are all very friendly. Most have moved here from East Asia (I’ve already picked up some Chinese cooking tips) with a couple of Australians thrown in for good measure. Ha and right on cue the girl in the room next to mine just knocked on my door to give me a present. A handmade Chinese luck charm which is now hanging on my wardrobe.