I was on the tram this evening, around 11pm, coming back home after seeing Saw III at the cinema (gory, gory, gory - ugh). It’s only 2 stops, so the journey doesn’t take very long. Tonight though, the tram stopped unexpectedly halfway between my stop and the one before. The driver called the conductor up to the cab at the front, and they both got off the tram and started walking back down it. Several mystifying minutes passed before they appeared again, heavily supporting a 20-something bloke who had his fly unbuttoned and could barely stand. I guess he must have been wandering on the tracks, and the driver had luckily seen him. The driver got back in her cab and opened the doors beside me, and the conductor, who had his arms pretty much around the guy’s waist, helped him fall into the tram. He propped the guy up against the other door, and told him to stay put. The tram got moving again, and it only took around 45 seconds to get to my stop, but all that time I was staring at the guy, who stared back at me with a goofy grin. I don’t know whether he was drunk, high or stoned.

According to my website statistics, over the past year this site has been accessed from the countries in red above. I’m pretty impressed at the global spread, but it looks like I need to attract more visitors from Asia and Africa!

Buying Beechams cold remedy capsules, then discovering there was already a full packet in the kitchen drawer. Going upstairs after taking aforementioned capsules, only to discover a packet of Lemsip capsules on my computer desk. That had been in PLAIN SIGHT even before I caught the cold.

Getting into work, and stopping to chat to a colleague whilst fishing for my office keys in my bag. Pulling out my keys, then my tram pass, sliding my keys back into the bag pocket, and only realising when I finished chatting to my work colleague that I couldn’t unlock a door with a tram pass.

Bringing the shopping home, and putting it all away before going into the living room to watch tv. Later, opening the fridge door to realise I’d put the dry cat food in there too.

I’m obviously cracking up.

Full of a cold. Rather now than when I’m on holiday, or at next week’s gaming weekend, but rather not at all than now with the sneezing and the sniffing and the coughing and the Lemsip that’s not working. On a nicer note though, Dorrie the kitten is very snuggly and, if not actively sympathetic, she’s happy to curl up beside me and let me stroke her. Which works for me too.

I visited the Millenium Galleries in the town centre on Saturday to take some pictures, and went into an exhibition called ‘Art at the Rockface’. No photography was allowed in there, but there were some great pieces. The exhibition was all about the use of and inspiration from natural materials - so there were things like marble busts, crystal and mineral carvings, sculptures, and jewellery, and landscape paintings using paints like cadmium and ochre. Really liked it.

There was one installation that really stood out for me. A standing stone found in Wiltshire was on display, and it had a carved memorial to a man of the time. Underneath the stone were pencils and card for people to write on, and a little notice telling people to write down how they’d want to be remembered. The cards could then be displayed in slots beside the stone.

One of the cards read:
“I want to be remembered simply as a human; no greater or less than anyone else, but as an equal.”

I thought that was really touching. I wondered if it was a plagiarised famous quote, but I haven’t found it anywhere else.

I wrote a card myself too.
“I don’t need fortune, and I don’t want fame. All I want is for someone to remember my name.”

I went into Starbucks this evening on my way home from work, and sat down with a mug of hot chocolate. At a table opposite me, a red-headed woman smiled at me. I smiled back politely, and pulled out my camera to have a look at some shots I’d taken. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the woman looking in my direction a few more times. I started to wonder if I knew her from somewhere.

She got up after a bit, asking if I could watch her bag for a moment. No problem, I agreed. She was back within a minute or two, and gave me another friendly smile. I racked my brains as to where I might know her from, unsuccessfully.

I finished up my drink, and got up to go.

“You’re off, then,” she piped up.
“Yeah,” I nodded, “off home.”
“So what have you been taking photos of?” she asked me.
“Winter Gardens, round and about,” I shrugged.

I didn’t want to be rude in case I did know her from the University or somewhere; it’d be an embarrassing nightmare if I forgot someone I have contact with now and then at work.

“So what do you like doing, then?” she asked.
“What… hobbies? Well… photography..?” I said lamely.
“Oh, is that what you do, then?” she smiled.
“Um, well, not as a job,” I replied. “Just for fun. For my website.”
“Oh, you have a website?” she beamed. “How nice, is it like a diary?”
“Well, I post my photos on there…” I said awkwardly.

I was getting steadily more confused. If I didn’t know her from work, did I know her from anywhere? I hefted my bag a bit on my shoulder.

“Oh, I bet you can take some lovely photos,” she said.
“Yeah…” I replied vaguely. “Um. Well. I better take advantage of the light before it’s gone,” I nodded out the window.
She smiled again. “Bye, then.”

I scarpered. I have absolutely no idea who she was, or if I know her.

I’ve been doing a bit more updating of my old Little Blue Fox archives recently, and the thing that most struck me was how much I used to write compared to the sporadic and not-very-interesting updates of recent months. I keep the photoblog updated daily, and that’s going great, but I just haven’t written anything amazing lately, whether online or on paper. So last night, I sat down in front of my computer, and tried to think of something to write. And I just sat there. I honestly could not think of anything interesting to write about. I looked on the BBC News website to see if anything struck a chord. Nope. I had a look around other blogs. Nothing. I scanned my bookcase. No inspiration there either. I couldn’t believe I was so lost for words.

Still struck dumb, I turned to Wikipedia, and searched on writer’s block.

Writer’s block is a phenomenon involving temporary loss of ability to continue writing, usually due to lack of inspiration or creativity.

I like Wikipedia. It’s pretty helpful, and put forward some suggestions for overcoming writer’s block. I decided to follow strategy number 4 - ‘Doing something out of the ordinary. If writer’s block comes from a lack of new ideas, attempts to spark creativity by going somewhere new or doing something different can be useful.’

A quick Google search turned up the Sheffield What’s On Database, and I discovered we’re in the last few days of the Grin Up North Sheffield Comedy Festival. Down at the Roundhouse tonight, Adam Hills is performing. He’s an Aussie comedian who I actually saw down at London’s Comedy Club several years ago with my friend David. Hills was host for the evening, and the warm up he gave before each act had me in stitches. I just phoned up the Box Office and found out there were tickets left, so bought one immediately and that’s where I’ll be at 7.30pm. Really looking forward to it.

In the Union shop this afternoon, as I moved up to the till, one of the older shop assistants was talking to a student assistant about Ivor the Engine, a 1970s cartoon.

“You don’t remember Ivor?” he asked. “Welsh train, you know?”
“Chitty-koom,” I said with a grin.
“Exactly!” the older shop assistant said.

The student looked completely blank.
“Never seen it in my life,” he said.

It’s at times like that when I realise that by the time he was born, Ivor the Engine had rolled into the train shed for the last time over 10 years previously.

“God,” I said, “that makes me feel really old.”
“Yeah,” he laughed.

I paid up and slunk off arthritically.