I’ve heard it said that the worst thing about travelling is packing the right clothes. I don’t have a problem in this area generally, it’s:
Work clothes x number of days with clients
Tee-shirts x evenings away
Jeans and cargos (1 pair each)
Smalls to cover all of the changes.
Sometimes though I find myself thinking “If only I’d packed…”. Today is one of those times. Andover near Boston seems like a nice place, this is what I can see of it through the torrential downpour streaming from the skies outside the Chillis I’m currently ensconced within (GOOODD Habanero Wings!)
I got pretty wet on my walk here from the hotel to get my ‘MUST STAY AWAKE’ meal - actually as a side bar I’m interested in finding out anyone else’s routine to beat the clock? I have only 5 hours to gain somewhere but it seems that these short trips of destined to be tired and off-kilter! My usual routine, and this time was no exception, is land, get to hotel, get checked in, have an evening meal and stay awake until as late as possible (typically 9-10 pm). I then awake as fresh as a daiy at about 4 am ready for the world!!
Anyway, tonight’s meal segment of the process at Chillis (good margueritas too) has been accompanied by the thrumming of rain on the roof and I’m thinking that perhaps a raincoat might have been a good choice.. next time perhaps!avel
For a long time now I’ve been mildly annoyed by the fact that every time I start up my virtualised XP environment under Parallels on the Mac, it tries to log me is as Administrator. I don’t want Administrator, I want my own account see!
Today I finally got sick of the error dialogue and prompt so did some diggin around. I initially thought that this was being set up and passed through by Parallels but a search there yielded nothing at all, then I found this little snippet about doing stuff in the Windows environment itself:
Open Registry Editor (Regedit.exe) and navigate to:
Sitting in the departure lounge I watch the ebb and flow of the human traffic.
Lines form and drain away at the podiums and behind the clear walls the transients drift by, a show of disinterested acceptance of their recent experiences.
I spend hours here. Here or somewhere which looks like here. Maybe the colours are different this time, I’m not sure - or not sure that I care.
The gift shop has supplied my with something new so this must be a new location but, other than that, it’s hard for me to tell. This time I have a dolphin and a strange man made out of rocks - not real you understand, they wouldn’t fit in my carry-on allowance, but trinkets and things carrying their likeness.
It’s through these things that I track where I’ve been. I could simply log this I suppose but the things are more real, something I can look at and touch.
Purple. I don’t think I’ve been anywhere else which was quite so purple. I don’t think I like it. No-one else seems to notice but I think they just don’t care.
There are many things I could be doing and quite a few I should be doing but instead I sit contemplating the journey ahead, wondering what I’ll watch on the vid, what I’ll eat and whether the stranger next to me will be pleasant or not.
