Hotels!!!!!

I don't get it. Why do hotel rooms all look the same?

I had somehow found myself being sent away for work again and ended up in another random hotel.

It was a nice hotel too. Nice area, beach frontage, expensive looking bar....

And yet it was so bland it felt like I had literally stepped into a catalogue. I had somehow ended up in yet another one of the completely non-descript hotels that exist all over the world. I don't think I spent more than an our there outside of sleep.

I don't understand it. Why is there this need for hotels globally to move towards this central, boring, homogeneous state of nothing. Why is there this complete lack of difference between the hotels? If they were moving towards a common goal of class, beauty or comfort, it would make sense. But that is not the case. What they have moved towards is mind numbing, colourless and drab. The rooms always feel empty and they always feel sterile.

And who designs these things? I'm assuming the owners don't just come up with the ideas themselves, but rather they hire people to do the designs. They would PAY people to "design" these things. This would have to be one of the most pointless and unimaginative jobs in the world. A job that consists of stealing an idea that has already been a stolen a countless number of times to ensure that you in no way display any originality or creativity.

... and it's not even a good idea that they're stealing...

A day at the races

I was initially reluctant to go to the races.

I had never been in my life, but as a strict non-gambler (I choose not to gamble for a whole host of reasons), spending a day being surrounded by the activity did not seem the most appealing prospects.

However, after much prodding I decided to go.

And as usual, the lure of going in the members section rather than in general admission helped my decision.

Royal Randwick is actually situated on my bus route to and from work. For well over a year now, I have sped past the race course in the early mornings and evenings. The extent of my interest in this place has been to briefly catch a glimpse of the horses being trained as my bus sped down the road.

I think it is quite amazing how often in life this happens. You pass things by on a day to day basis and never give it consideration. Amazement and wonder can stare you in the eyes, and yet you will ignore it because its shine has been eroded by familiarity.

Now the races isn't something that I would classify in the "amazement and wonder" category, but the idea remains the same.

Here was something that I had ignored. Something that was part of my daily routine that I had neglected.

Even with my personal ban on gambling enforced, I still found it to be a great day out.

Sitting in the sun. Chatting with friends. Having a few quiet drinks.

I also quite enjoyed process of the steward blowing his horn and the procession into the stands to watch the next race.

As the day came to an end, a light rain storm swept through.

People laughed and screamed as they ran inside, to continue the party without the horses.

The domain of Slugboy

Andy and I don't see as much of Josh as we used to.

He's undertaken a disappearing act. While we know he's in the apartment, he really isn't actually there with us anymore.

Even when we do see him, he seems to be a shadow of his old self. It's like we're looking at him through an unfocused lens. It's Josh, but it isn't the Josh we are used to seeing.

There are bags around his eyes, he's often yawning, he's paler and he seems perpetually tired. In the mornings, his wakeup times have been progressively pushed back.

Many people would be concerned by this change behaviour and appearance.

They would be questioning why this was happening and what help they should be arranging for the person.

Not Andy and I though.

We find this situation hilarious in fact!

We may seem callous, but we know better.

All of Josh's behavioural and physiological changes have been self inflicted. He has no one to blame but himself.

A few weeks ago, Josh decided that it would be a fantastic idea to a purchase brand new flat screen television for his room. It didn't matter that his room gets terrible television reception. There was only one main purpose for this purchase.

His PS3.

Night and day, Andy and I now find Josh glued to the television, black controller in hand, ear piece in place, hammering away at the latest Call of Duty game.

His lack of movement and slothful ways have led Andy and I to rename him "SLUGBOY".

His obsession with this game is starting to affect his perception of time as well. Last Saturday, he found himself playing from 10:00 am till 1:00pm, taking a short break for lunch and then playing from about 2:00pm through till 7:00pm. Count those hours. Those are EIGHT hours. What are they again? EIGHT HOURS!

Josh however, was certain that he had only been playing for "three or four hours".

No Josh, EIGHT HOURS.

It appears that even time slows down in the domain of the Slugboy.