Conversations on A Geek's Life

The Year in Reading 2019

Mon, 23 Dec 2019 09:10:38 +0000

It’s that time of the year again where I reflect on my reading over the course of the year. It wasn’t the most productive year of reading proper books (the web has cannibalised that for good for me I’m afraid) but a late spurt in November and December brought some redemption. For a more wide-ranging review of the year in books, check out the coverage at The Millions here. My previous attempts are linked here .

#97 - In Conversation

Fri, 08 Apr 2016 18:49:51 +0000

On my return to my favourite eating-out place for the first time in just over a month, I find I am served by a face I don’t recognise. The accent is also one I can’t place which is why after I place my order, my curiosity gets the better of me. It turns out he’s from New Zealand - he describes his accent as having the Australian twang and the South African heft.

#64 - Certainly Uncertain

Sun, 06 Mar 2016 22:03:03 +0000

Spent the entire weekend building up to a conversation with L. The arguments and counter arguments were all laid out in my head, in my very worst Ted Mosby imitation. Here on the cusp of the actual meeting, it doesn’t feel so cut and dried in my head anymore, which may or may not be a good thing… I guess I’ll know soon enough how it goes..

#Pensive

#51 - Beautiful Things - Gungor

Mon, 22 Feb 2016 20:17:53 +0000

Reminded of how much I heart Gungor by a conversation…

#EarWorm

Fortuity

Fri, 23 Oct 2015 11:30:45 +0000

I chalk it up to the much vaunted persistence of vendors, when T. insists on coming into the office to drop off documents that require my assent rather than pop them in the mail. Part of me is more than mildly irritated at his insistence, given how much I have got on my plate at the moment - and the hour or so I will have to carve out of my day to attend to him. He comes bearing gifts, two large, sturdy umbrellas with alternating green and white panels; splashed with a large copy of his company logo. That does little to mollify me, but I manage to be courteous enough to make small talk and have a quick whiz through the documents I need to sign off. Just before he leaves, he enquires about the potential for future work, a subject I am unwilling to discuss given the state of the industry. When it is time to go home later that day, I leave the umbrella, that decision my nod to its unwantedness.

Of Hair and Odd Conversations

Fri, 04 Sep 2015 11:30:14 +0000

Image Source: Dionysius Burton, Flickr

As far as dubious honours go, being asked what part of The States I am from in Union Square has to come near the top of my list; not least because it is unclear what prompted the fairly ancient gentleman to tap my arm and initiate the conversation in the first place. On reflection, my friend A., or more correctly her hair, must have had some input, if his eyes which never left her face had anything to do with it.

Bait and Switch...

Tue, 15 Apr 2014 21:18:34 +0000

My father, very much like me, is not a great talker- the sum of our conversation over the course of the year is little more than fifteen minutes. In the main these - 3 minutes here, 2 there, and 5 there have mainly come about as intermissions, snuck in between typically lengthy conversations with my mother - if her constant probing and interrogating can count as conversations. When I wake up to find a couple of missed calls from him on my phone , a whatsapp message from my kid sister, and a BBM message from my brother - all relating to the fact that my father has been trying to get hold of me- it sets the alarm bells in my head off. After arriving from my weekend trip to the middle of nowhere (link) I ordered the largest, most decadent pizza I could from PapaJohns - with a barbecue chicken side- devoured it and promptly fell into my bed for sleep, which was how I ended up oblivious to the clamour for my attention.

Conversations and Conundrums

Sat, 08 Feb 2014 16:18:41 +0000

Fundamentally, I do like you, but there is a but.

My initial elation very quickly vanished, to be replaced with a more pragmatic mix of angst, exasperation and some curiosity. LK and I had been chatting, catching up, and following up after my London trip, the main driver for which was a (second) date with her. After church at Hillsong - always a great bonus on these trips - I made my way towards the Angel Station where we’d planned to meet and then do lunch and talk.

A Question of Patience...

Tue, 28 Jan 2014 17:55:21 +0000

In her own words, she is complex in a can of cute. Slouched in my favourite chair by my window, with the sound of passing cars, their occasional horn toots and the odd police siren as the soundtrack to my evening, up until then I had been having a chilled, if lethargic evening natter.

I had one eye on the evolving tactical battle on my FM2013 Liverpool save and the other on my phone whilst we talked, before we segued into the subject of personality types and tests. Thanks to books like Quiet and Networking for Those Who Hate Networking, I am increasingly secure in owning up to being introverted - which was probably why without too much thinking I owned up to being INTJ. Her initial response was to ask me to translate that into real English; I promptly emailed her a link to the sixteen personalities INTJ page. That set off a bout of good natured teasing and banter at my expense - not that I minded. LK is delightfully great to talk to; her brand of acerbic, intelligent, thoughtful conversation delivered in a voice so soft one would assume she couldn’t hurt a fly is one that I have taken a great liking to over the past three months. Teasing over, I pressed her to take the test herself, knowing just how much insight into her personality it would provide and looking for canon fodder to retaliate. That was the setting for her declaration, in the aftermath of which I found myself soberly considering just what the potential ramifications of the revelation might be.

An English man abroad... Of sorts

Tue, 06 Aug 2013 18:00:17 +0000

Seems like you’re having a ball for one, the ginger haired man who had seemingly popped out of nowhere said to me as I attempted to retrieve my cup of tea, and turn around at the same time.

Epic fail. I managed to do neither, very nearly tipping my life giving cup of tea over in the process. I had been waiting on our epileptic coffee maker to finish pissing a shot of hot water into my cup, passing the time by whistling to myself and looking out with longing for the clear, sunny day that was out there, just beyond my reach for the next few hours.

West End Conversations

Fri, 17 May 2013 16:20:43 +0000

She taps me on the shoulder, seemingly after several attempts to get my attention. In my defence, I have my earphones plugged in, cranked up to the maximum as usual, and have my hands in my fully done up jacket, braced up for the nip in the air, a far cry from the fairly balmy weather we’d had for all of three days that week.

I am waiting for the Number 5 bus from Seafield Shops to Union Street, at a little before 20 minutes to 5pm, and besides the slowly lengthening line of cars on the opposite side of the road queuing up to get off Seafield on to Springfield road, there is an uncertain quietness to everything. At the time she tapped my shoulder, the only thing on my mind besides the cold was clearing my head of PRENs, Carbon equivalents, hydrogen embrittlement and all the other buzz words my ears had been filled up with at the training course I was on.

About Town: The Essential Guide to (Aberdonian) Cab Conversations

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 15:00:52 +0000

There are only so many taxi rides that you can take before you begin to pick up on the subtleties of maintaining inane conversations. And if your default mode of transport is a taxi, you have no choice but to cultivate the art, unless awkward silence is your forte. Here then in no specific order are the non threatening things that keep coming up for me in my journeys in the Aberdeen area.

On My Return to the Middle of Nowhere

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 16:00:39 +0000


[Source]

I seem to have the knack for choosing the shittiest days to go offshore. Last November I end up stuck for an extra three days, thanks to Ambisagrus going berserk and my helicopter flight getting cancelled. Speaking to the heli-admin late on Monday as I confirm my booking, I have her take a quick look at the weather forecast; she confirms there are no extraordinary weather events forecast for the rest of the week. Satisfied, I confirm my check-in time and head out to pack my bags and plan.

Sunday delights, deconstructing the Nigerian conundrum and difficult work moments

Mon, 13 Aug 2012 04:32:11 +0000

An altogether forgettable weekend - and at my age they all are - is bookended by a pit stop at Union Square for lunch with a friend of a friend. A random conversation a couple of weeks ago about (yet another) mutual friend and my lack of proactivity had ended up in a challenge of sorts being issued in my direction. Three phone calls later - with a few text messages thrown in - I end up making my way up the stairs towards the safe bet that is Nandos for a quick bite and chat. I arrive early - knowing Union Square, getting a table can be a hassle on sunny Sunday afternoons - the added advantage being that I get to see her first, and the satisfaction that she fits the image I have of her in my head. We order simple food - lime and herb flavoured chicken with a mixed leaf salad for me and a ratatouille for her and bottomless drinks and make small talk over the course of an hour and a half. All told it is a pleasant afternoon, and but for the fact that I have dodgy genes, and family history I would already be inventing scenarios involving white picket fences and 2.1 kids in my head. :) Given the choice, I would most certainly like an encore by all accounts.

On traditional gender roles...

Sat, 02 Jun 2012 00:49:30 +0000

Somehow, my increasingly regular Friday evening/night conversations with Mlle.M had an interesting segue. We had been catching up on weekend plans at the time I believe when we somehow got into the dodgy waters of traditional gender roles, and how they are expressed in modern (Nigerian) marriages and relationships.

[The overwhelming feedback I get from the women I talk to is the Nigerian man out there at the moment, irrespective of how learned he is, is one who expects a certain domestication in his women, often with a big dollop of subservience. My experience doesn’t fit that narrative though.]

Conversations

Sat, 31 Mar 2012 21:05:46 +0000

My lazy Saturday - the slightly chillier air put paid to any pretensions of activity I had planned for the day - ended being defined by three conversations. In all honesty, two were conversations I could have done without, but I ended up caught up in them anyways.

I wake up to see an offline message from my Q, my friend of just under a week. She’s a Geek’s Geek complete with geeky glasses and loads of tech speech. We end up talking about everything and nothing for the better part of three hours. In a sense it feels like de ja vu all over again - the easy conversation, shared interests and comfort even in silence were hallmarks of the early days of my bonding with EJ. Probably still early days, but there does seem to be a real opportunity for something to develop here.

Feening for summer...

Mon, 13 Feb 2012 20:14:15 +0000

On a whim, I decide to wear a yellow shirt to work. There are no dress codes out here, but light greys, shiny whites and spartan blues are the most likely colours that peek out from beneath the heavy, grey jumpers that are de rigueur around these parts. It is a relatively mild seven degrees, less the wind chill and I feel sufficiently warm enough to ditch my heavy overcoat in favour of a lighter jacket.

Awkward conversations, proxy wars and the end of an era

Mon, 30 Jan 2012 23:10:05 +0000

In that productivity black hole that is the half hour before lunch - where the energy and the gusto from an early start have been steadily eroded by the mundanity of work and the insistent prattle of phone calls, emails and the odd buzz-word infested meeting - I stroll for the umpteenth time into the restroom, almost colliding with a man who is fiddling with the zipper on his fly. I least expect to find someone just inside the door, even though this time of the day is one where the restroom shuffle, coffee room trips and huddles of two and three in the hallway are time honoured strategies for the keen time waster.

A Question of Happiness

Mon, 28 Nov 2011 20:26:00 +0000

Between bites of peri-peri chicken and sips of Coke Zero, my friend Des asked me if I was happy. She - amongst all my long term friends - complains the least about my propensity to wall them off from the reality that is in my head, but from time to time she insists we meet to ‘catch up’. These meetings haven’t happened a lot recently - thanks to her juggling a return to full time employment with an energetic three year old, and travelling. Skipping merrily through town, as she is wont to these days, she asked if I was up for a bite and a drink, which I accepted. We ordered the usual - a platter to share, bottomless drinks and sides of rice and settled in to talk about the minutiae of life, and all the quotidian pleasures we have enjoyed in the year so far. Then - out of the blue - she asked if I was happy. I suspect I managed to side track her question by rolling out my usual spiel about life being what it was - normal and mundane without anything out of the ordinary.

Friday afternoon conversations

Fri, 21 Oct 2011 20:40:41 +0000

Huddled around the lone telephone in Meeting Room Twelve, how we end up talking about the potentially explosive subjects of immigration and living on the dole escapes me, but once the first, tentative blows are struck, it all takes off from there. There is me - very Nigerian, Ahmed – devout Muslim, Pakistani – born, but as English as they come and Steph – part free thinker, part new-ager, also British. We are waiting for the phone call which will initiate a teleconference – one which should have started a full ten minutes earlier.

An omen, or not?

Fri, 16 Sep 2011 22:36:08 +0000

I suspect it might be the vestigial memories of night bus journeys from Lagos to Abuja back in the day, but my favourite journeys over the last couple of years have been on trains - spotting a rainbow just outside Edinburgh on the way to a job interview in 2009, returning to the North East of England for a weekend of introspection in 2010 and being surprised by the breath taking beauty of a sun bathed Forth Road Bridge, in November no less! Something about watching the grey granite of built up areas segue into lush greenery, and blue clouds, usually leaves me a little awed.

The Thing about 'Definition'.....

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 11:40:04 +0000

I am all for defining my people connections upfront (DTRs) …… The thing about them though is that they are tricky……. Too soon, and you run the risk of permanently pulverizing some real bridges before they even get built…….. Too late, and you’re mired in the morass of the ‘just friends’ zone…..

That night we had the inevitable talk and faced the ineluctable moment of truth….. Faced with a choice she said…..