Quit your day job. Go on. I dare you.

I love Deptford, me. It’ the realest place in the world.

I had some business to take care of in the place this morning; sorting out my flat I’m renting out, getting my suit for Saturday’s party dry-cleaned and having breakfast in the greasiest of greasy spoons. My local bacon sarnie joint. I miss it.

Driving my sister’s nice red Polo around was a bit hairy. Luckily the white van drivers on the Old Kent Road are used to numpty-avoidance tactics and I managed to bring the thing in unscathed. I used to be a tiger in my old beemer. Now I’m a complete muppet.

I love that I can understand everyone, and that everyone can understand me. Here’s a snippet of conversation I heard on Evelyn Street. A mid thirties, black Saaaaf-London woman talking into her mobile.

“I gotta take a picture of that motherfucker. That shit don’t look real, Jen.”

Sweet As.

I’m off to the smoke again in a minute. This time it’s not for work. It’ just to catch up with family and mates before Christmas (which I’ll hopefully spend skiing).

I’m quite looking forward to it. Chamonix has been dead for months now, and I’m a bit bored. I need a bit of bright light, big city action. And when I get back…… there’ll be snow and the bars will be open. With a bit of luck.

Meat space is a new term I learned from the radio today. It’s the area of your life that is not spent online, or gaming or attached by an umbilical cord to your mobile phone.

I’ve been considering my own meatSpace for the last few days. Suddenly I’m fascinated by how much of my life is conducted through phones, Skype and email. Most of it.

This morning as I was in the launderette doing my washing I came to the conclusion that meatSpace can be pretty boring.

But even though hamburgers are delicious, we still need to eat vegetables and cereals to keep healthy don’t we? And in the same way, meatSpace is as important. We are people. Not nodes.

A friend of mine is sounding as though he’s also considering this. In his latest blog entry he’s decided to follow suit and move out to Chamonix. From all of us in this little cartoon town in the mountains, we welcome the boy Narg.

http://nargster.blogspot.com/2006/11/changingman.html

Is anyone else of the opinion that people just don’t check their email anymore? I check it these days, but I don’t read it anymore. Maybe the first line, but I’m generally too busy to read anything wordy.

Last week I missed a business meeting. It was set up as a web conference with one guy being in the States, one in Thailand and me here in Chamonix. But the explanation on how to do it was at the bottom of the email and I didn’t read that far. So I missed it. I think they were a bit pissed off with me to be honest.

But I don’t email people now. It’s a shot in the dark. Who knows how many email addresses someone has or how often they check it. There are some people, maybe. If you’re a lawyer like my sis, then when you’re at work, you’re email is on. Full stop. Everything is recorded and kept for posterity and you’re not allowed hotmail.