World of more

It's been three months now since the last major corkscrewing change in my relationship with her and it's been a good three months. I've taken back control of my life by (amongst many other things) buying a big telly because I wanted to, going to the gym a lot, laughing on Sunday mornings with people who understand the value of lazy days, and rediscovering the loveliness of many of my friends. I've maintained some degree of contact with her, so I've been talking to her about once a week and I've seen her a couple of times. I thought I was over her (or getting that way). So I'm annoyed that I'm upset that he's moving in with her. I've known for a while he was returning from overseas this year, and of course I've known that they were only going to get closer. So why does this hurt? I think it's the finality of it all. I can't phone her anymore (I don't want to speak to him at all, so I can't call in case he answers), I can...

I follow rigorously in the shadow of mighty intellectual giants and trail breakers for the scientific method such as Galileo, Newton, Maxwell and Rutherford. If the observations fit the theory then the theory is good, and theories stand until they are disproved. There is no need to invoke any higher powers to understand inexplicable events, they will eventually crumble beneath the steamroller of logic and truth. Why then, do I own a lucky pair of pants - whenever I wear them I'm guaranteed some bedroom frolics (although there's no empirical evidence to back this up). And how is it that I shave with shaving gel that brings me bad luck - since its purchase in a Sydney chemist, nothing but emotional trauma has befallen me? Why do I always check my horoscope in whichever paper I'm reading (fortunately New Scientist's remit does not extend to astrology), even though I'll always do it with a weary and resigned sense of how damnably stupid I'm being. It's becau...

Happiness is frequently considered to be something transitory and only easily recognised in hindsight. With the many immediate pressures and confusions of day to day living - from what to eat next to who's going to win the Premiership - people apparently find it difficult to ask themselves the question "Am I happy?" and answer with a "yes". These people should get themselves a Lotus Elise. I got back in my car after a six week hiatus and did over 200 miles of driving along dry and lightly populated country roads. And it was all great. I've had the car nearly two years and twelve thousand miles and driving it fast still brings a smile to my face. The single best moment this weekend came whilst accelerating through a series of open, empty bends when I was hit with a massive adrenaline rush culminating in the incredibly exciting thought that "I'm driving a Lotus Elise". A more current expression of happiness would be difficult to realise.