#7 Recruit someone else to 101 in 1001

Status: Complete

Well, that was easy! Love that colour scheme, by the way! Wonder who chose that!

Oh, and pogs, Jackie? What have I got myself into?

#34 Set up a blog for Jackie

Status: Complete

Another easy one, but I know once I do all of those, I'll be left with a bunch of tough ones to deal with.

Anyway, once my Jackie pops her list onto her blog, I'll be able to cross off #7 as well. Hooray!

#3 Mail Canadian visa papers

Status: Complete

After opening and resealing the envelope several times due to the fact I kept forgetting to complete various aspects of the application process, this baby's off in the post!

It's going to apparently take four weeks to be approved - but it's out of my hands now, so this one can be crossed off the list!

#23 Read the John Gardner James Bond novels

Status: In progress

A more arduous undertaking than many may think. John Gardner wrote 16 of these suckers in the 1980s and '90s. I attempted to start reading them before I left for England, but lost interest on page 24 of the first one. I'd just come off the Ian Fleming and Kingsley Amis books, so I may have been suffering Bond burnout. However, Gardner is seen as the Roger Moore of the literary 007, in that many of his later efforts are considered inferior entries to the series and that he hung around for far too long. That said, I plan to give this my all, though, as I started from the beginning of his tenure - Licence Renewed - while on the train today. 64 pages and counting...

#24 Buy seasons seven, eight, nine and ten of The Simpsons on DVD

Status: In progress

Can I rename this task "Become broke"? I know it's my own fault, I know it's a shallow task and I know I can watch every episode of these four seasons by simply tuning into Network Ten next week, but, well, I own the others, so this was inevitable.

Anyway, today I spent more money I don't actually have on seasons seven and eight. Thank heavens Big W were sold out of season nine, or I may have had to take out a mortgage on the house I don't actually own.

I promise more rewarding and less consumerist tasks are to come!

#33 Find out exactly when 1001 days from 9 September 2007 is

Status: Complete

6 June 2010.

This gig's easy!

#1 Finally update blog

Status: Complete

Okay, so my first task is a total cop-out, but, well, whatever it'd take to kick-start my enthusiasm for this slice of web space.

So with an exceptionally large nod to Brady, who suggested I partake in this, and whose basic layout I have totally ripped off, I hereby embark upon a mission to complete 101 tasks in 1001 days, which, by my calculation, takes me through to, er, I'm not sure when. Might add that to the list, actually.

Anyway, 101 is an exceptionally high number, so any suggestions to help nudge me closer to that figure would be much appreciated. Keep 'em achievable, quantifiable and, er, clean. Ta!

Oh, and if I let this list - and consequently this blog - fall by the wayside at any point, you have permission to throw something of substantial weight at me. And then add that to your own list.

101 in 1001

101 Things to do in 1001 Days

The Mission:
Complete 101 preset tasks in a period of 1001 days.

The Criteria:
Tasks must be specific (ie. no ambiguity in the wording) with a result that is either measurable or clearly defined. Tasks must also be realistic and stretching (ie. represent some amount of work on my part).

Why 1001 Days?
Many people have created lists in the past - frequently simple goals such as New Year's resolutions. The key to beating procrastination is to set a deadline that is realistic. 1001 Days (about 2.75 years) is a better period of time than a year, because it allows you several seasons to complete the tasks, which is better for organising and timing some tasks such as overseas trips or outdoor activities.

For those who I didn't excitedly call, text or email, it snowed in London on Thursday!!!

It happened a couple of weeks ago when I was in Switzerland. Despite the fact I was in Engelberg and being battered with an avalanche of the stuff, I was still bitterly disappointed I missed London being turned into a Winter Wonderland. Nevertheless, my prayers were answered when I awoke last Thursday, leapt out of bed and saw my street topped with a gorgeous dusting of snow.


The words "kid" and "Christmas morning" sprang to mind, as I raced downstairs to check out my back garden.


I skipped merrily to work, too cheerful to be bothered by the dangerously slippery patches of ice that had already formed on the footpath. Quaggy Gardens, my local park, was a pristine and untouched layer of snowflakes.


Given the trains in London tend to be severely delayed whenever a leaf falls on the tracks, I expected the worst from 10cm of snow. However, my journey to work, during which my face was pressed up against the train window like a small child at a pet store, went by surprisingly quickly.


Landed on the receiving end of a snowball outside of my office, courtesy of my manager. I howled as it hit me, if only because I wish I'd thought of it first.


Well, I can tick that off my winter checklist. Now bring back summer; this cold is miserable!

Just returned from a week-long snowboarding trip to Engelberg in Switzerland, thus explaining my five-week absence from this weblog. I hope.

Anyway, here for your five minutes of pleasure, is a journal of my eight days of pain.


Day 1: arrive in a bright, green and sunny Engelberg having spent the better part of the day on every method of public transportation known to man. Fortunately, there's snow further up in the mountains. There's just enough time to pick up our snowboarding gear. Despite the fact my mittens offer me the dexterity of a seal and my boots result in me walking like Frankenstein's monster, my snowboard is very pretty. Accordingly, I am thrilled at the prospect of hitting the slopes tomorrow.


Day 2: having had a big night last night, I am far from thrilled at the prospect of hitting the slopes today. Nevertheless, I receive my first snowboarding lesson, most of which was spent on my rear end. Having great difficulty attaching my boots to my snowboard bindings (which I have discovered are women's bindings) - I feel this is God's way of telling me I should not be doing this. After all, He put me on this earth with two perfectly good legs and not than a flat, laminated plank of wood bordered by a steel edge.


Day 3: anticipated nothing but aches and pains this morning, but feel surprisingly okay. Head back to the demeaningly-named Starterland - a slight incline on which I have spent the last two days - to brush up on my falling technique. Not only accomplish how to attach my boots to my board in under three minutes, but also learn that the key is to alternate which buttock you fall on. Am yet to put this into practice, but feel it is valuable information nonetheless.


Day 4: receive second snowboarding lesson, only to have our instructor shockingly tell us halfway through that it was time to head up to the runs. Take a chairlift up to Jochpass (roughly the same height above sea level as Mount Kosciuszko) where I careened my way down an entire run - occassionally whilst on my snowboard. Not just any run, mind, but a red (medium difficulty) run. Exhilarating, but exceptionally tiring on the body. Navigate the same run twice more and later on, the red run that precedes it and an allegedly easier blue run. Took several nasty falls down several steep inclines. Developing the annoying habit of tripping over a soft pile of snow only to land on a hard patch of ice immediately following it. Still, I've been doing just fine so far; I can handle it.


Day 5: every movement I make is sheer agony. Whenever I sit down, I react as if I'm being disemboweled. Even simple tasks such as compressing the pump on a bottle of liquid soap evoke bloodcurdling screams. Meanwhile, it snowed heavily overnight and the temperature has plummeted to -20°C. Head back to the slopes, the cold mercifully rendering my aching limbs numb. Unfortunately, the heavy snow and deep fog persists throughout the day, making it impossible to anticipate what exactly I will be falling on (rocks, ice and disgruntled skiers are amongst my most popular choices).


Day 6: unable to move at all. Struggle to get out of bed worse than if it were a Monday morning. Snowflakes as large as watermelons continue to batter me as I step foot outside. Why do people live in such cold places? I know colonies were set up here centuries ago, but surely the time should have come where one generation said, "Pack your bags, kids. We're leaving. It's just too freaking cold!" Only last a couple of hours on the red runs before heading up to the top of Mount Titlis to check out the view from a staggering 3,028 metres above sea level. Boasting to have the "highest bar in Europe" (though strangely neglecting to mention the height records of the watch store on the same level), I wander around caverns and glaciers deep beneath the ice, hoping my lightheadedness is attributable to the height and not the frostbite settling in to my fingers and toes. Head back to Engelberg for the afternoon, taking part in an Indiana Jones-style quest for a pair of boardshorts in a ski resort town. Bizarrely, I actually find some and head to the sauna for some downtime. I enter the change room, only to find that this is continental Europe and boardshorts would not be required (perhaps change room was not the best choice of words). My head still giddily at 10,000 feet, I actually go through with the ordeal. Despite being naked in front of many people for the first time since my birth, it's an incredibly theraputic occassion once you get used to finding new and innovative ways to keep yourself concealed. Top tips: tactfully stretching, massaging and scratching yourself in acceptable places works well; reclining does not.


Day 7: I am now seeing the world simply in shades of blue and white. My face, meanwhile, has turned a deep shade of purple. Possibly forever. Decide to try a few newly-opened blue runs at Gerschnialp. What the map did not explain, was that to get to these runs, you must trudge for what seemed like miles through thick snow and icy winds, uphill both ways, and then contend with what's known as a T-bar lift. Despite several attempts to cling to this device, including one misguided effort in which the lift is painfully ripped from between my legs, I fail to get off the ground. I ask for instructions from the nearest staff member, who merely whacks the lift with a giant wooden stick. We opt to take some posed photos of us snowboarding and head to the sauna. ...what? It was literally 100°C warmer than outside, despite the fact I had to shed all five layers of clothing.


Day 8: heading back to London, where it's a scorching 6°C. An amazing trip, despite the elements. Feel I can comfortably snowboard, having learnt that the trick is simply to not fall.


A belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all!