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Year View| Summary| Highlights| Month View| Monday 1 December 2003 (Day View)

01.12.2003Monday 1 December – Heat Exhaustion at the Beach

Mum and I went into town with Jean. I did the obvious, and bought a milkshake, and then went and saw Bob and Peter, before heading towards Ricci’s, but only getting as far as the Big Shed. I popped in to see both the Matthew’s, and ended up discussing web site design, hospitals, lung surgery, and giving a quick demo on the basics of Dreamweaver and web pages in general. They’ve offered me the job of designing a site to sell imported motorbikes and forklifts if I want it.
Ricci wasn’t home so I walked down to Finch Bay by myself. Two busloads of school kids turned up for some sort of sports thing, so I went looking for crocodiles in the mangroves, seeing as I had my camera with me. I didn’t find any, and, probably luckily, none found me. I then walked to Cherry Tree Bay. It was very sunny, hot and muggy. By the time I got to Cherry Tree Bay I wasn’t feeling so remarkably good, and very thirsty. I did get some (hopefully) nice panoramic beach shots though. Walking through Grassy Hill and back into town may not have been the best idea – I think I was bordering on heat exhaustion and sunstroke. By the time I got to the Gatorade at the Shell servo, I was ready to throw up. I’ve only had bad heat exhaustion once – and it wasn’t so fun. Ages ago, out in the Wild West behind Gympie, I went for a bushwalk – in the hot. After a few hours, fortunately once we’d turned about and were making our way home, I got too sick to walk and just had to lie down and close my eyes. Death seemed the best option and I lay there for a few hours while my friend went for help. I felt slightly better once night fell, and was content to curl up and never move again, but someone managed to get a truck in and pick me up and I lived. I’ve also managed to get nicely sunburnt.
I ate a punnet of pasta salad for lunch, along with some milk, and made my way up to Vince and Sarah’s, where Mum wasn’t, then down to Ricci’s, where she wasn’t, then back to Vince’s, where mum then was. Ergon has their backup generators running for some reason. Those megawatt generators use an amazing amount of diesel and make remarkably little noise. I’m impressed with how they can (sometimes) synchronise all of them and they actually (sometimes) work. The gas turbine is cool too.
Mum and I walked down to the wharf and got chips for a satisfying and healthy vegetable dinner, then watched a movie with Vince and Sarah, before Jean turned up and we all drove home. Jean’s two rings never turned up, so I got myself into hero-mode, complete with my custom, patented pure-lead thin plate starved-electrolyte foamed grid-alloy rechargeable cell powered ultra-bright halogen MagLite, and Mum and I drove up to her place to see if she’d died. She hadn’t, so my torch and I went to bed.
Clint found an interesting online journal mentioning him and me. It’s funny in a slightly sad way, so I’ll quote it: “Finally, today I was downstairs at GP South with DV looking for something to eat, and in walk Ned Martin and Clint Felmingham. I’m pretty sure Ned was giving me a bit of a funny look, so what, he can go f*ck himself. He hasn’t updated his sh*tty website though, so I consider my endeavours relatively successful.” Then again, at a slightly earlier date, “As I was getting off the ferry, I saw my arch-nemesis Ned Martin (well, he doesn’t actually know me, but I happen to think he’s a sh*t-eater) walking towards the ferry, so I waited until he was about to walk past me, when I uttered “NEDDY!!!” in a high-pitched voice. I’m sure he was startled, and although now he can put a face to the “Bob Goatse” joker who’s been commenting his stupid daily recount of his boring life, I certainly hope he confronts me during one of the two exams we’ll be sitting together during this exam block, when I can pay him out for being an IT student. Freudian slip? As I was typing student just then, before I could correct myself I had completely spelled STUPID. Now why is that not a surprise...” How peculiar, but I bothered to read a bit of his journal, and came across a good explanation. To quote, “So today I bought “Dude, where’s my country?” by Michael Moore. I’m only up the chapter two, and I already want to go to the Whitehouse and f*ck George Bush’s sh*t up. I had planned to do a heap of study, but ended up just watching Jerry Springer before I went into uni”. So there we have it, the guy’s a sad, misguided moron who seems to admire my journal. I am curious why or how he knows or bothers to think he knows us though, or more specifically, why he dislikes me – perhaps he’s just another of the many geeks badly needing some normal social interaction.
Comment by DM – Thursday 4 December 2003, 3:33 AM
  Your very own archnemesis, and you didn't even know about him. Nifty.
Comment by Ned – Sunday 7 December 2003, 10:03 AM
  I always wanted a pet arch-nemesis ;-)

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