Dodged a bullet

So I’ve now got to Saturday and failed to come down with anything. Much to be said by spraying vast amounts of chemicals up your nose. I did a fifteen mile walk as well as walking the dogs. Got back and immersed myself in a bash script. The object of the exercise was to produce a script that could upload a file to a ftp server. First issue was said server requires an SSH public / private key to validate. To be fair after a bit of Googling this wasn’t much of an issue. Producing a batch file to do this, again wasn’t a problem. Validating the file was there however turned out to be a challenge. There wasn’t any response to say that ‘file is uploaded’. So ended up with with a very interesting combination of ‘sed’ pipes to list the directory entry to a file to get it’s size. So validated the upload by comparing file sizes in a file containing the file size. Still. It was a night in.

The joys of FTP servers

So I have an ftp server set up on the, er hmm server. In fact I have two of them running. This is due to apache running two web servers, each under it’s own domain and each under it’s own IP address. WordPress likes to update using FTP, but the directories are all owned by the website users (as in I have a unique user account per web domain). This is for security reasons, I don’t want the user of one to be able to access the other. So each FTP server is bound to the IP address of it’s own domain and set to the certificate of that domain (even though it’s only really communicating to itself inside the box, there is no external FTP access as it’s blocked by two levels of firewalls). This all works fine, except when you want to transfer a file to / from the server. You can piss about and log into one of the existing servers using the credentials for that domain and end up uploading / downloading files from the var/www/domain directory (when you’ve finally figured out which directory you actually have write access to). But that’s an ass and I wanted to just be able to move files to some home type directoy.

So now I’ve added a third FTP server deamon. This one is bound to the DHCP IP address of the server (local subnet), this is just using the snake oil certificate as again I’m only transferring inside the local network. I had to create a new unique user. But the fun thing is when I logged in using the user credentials I get and error about chroot. It appears the only way to fix it was to make the user directory not writeable and then add a subdirectory under it called ‘upload’ and make this writeable by the same user. This works fine. Also cannot escape the home directory so all is good with the world.

Next job is remote server backup storage by SFTP. So far I’ve got as far as encrypting the backup files using a private key using openssl. More joy for the weekend I’m sure.

A bleach in time

So I’ve been trying to remember to bleach my teeth. A task I usually try and perform in the morning after my cup of tea, which follows my cup of coffee. You are meant to keep it in for about ten minutes, which is why I keep it in for three hours. Working on the theory that it’s probably worn out by then anyway. Why do I bleach my teeth? Well it’s the first thing people seem to notice, it’s certainly not my hair as that’s always covered by a hat. They used to be a combination of brown and green, but years of bleaching have now turned them ‘mostly’ white. Plus my dentist has slowly being replacing my amalgams, I only have two left.

My teeth are the only part of my body that is improving with age.

Well if I don’t get lurgie now I’ll be surprised

So today it was time for the annual haircut. Okay, I usually have one a couple of weeks before I ever go away, and there is a good reason for this. People. Specifically people with diseases. And when I went in the hairdressers today it was like a stomach and flu ward. I was coughed and snotted over constantly for about half an hour. Came back and drowned in antiseptic and rammed vast amounts of killing chemicals up my nose. I may have the constitution of an ox but that was bad exposure. Guess all I can do not is wait, not sure what the incubation period is. But I also quarantine for a week before I go away anyway.

Ebay my life

So as retirement draws ever closer (1825 days according to one spreadsheet) I need to sort some shit out. Over the years I’ve expanded from one bedroom into a four bedroomed house. I have basically tons of crap everywhere. With the plan to go to warmer climes at retirement there is no way I can transport everything. Basically I would have a twenty foot container to pack my life into.

So I’ve started to sell things, starting with the rubbish first. I’ve got rid of a broken logic board for an Mac Air, a broken Fitbit watch and a skipping rope. I’m certainly not going to get rich by selling some of this stuff, but there are a few gems up for grabs. There’s a lot of vintage computer gear and a ‘mid school’ BMX in the garage that’s been ridden about twice (it’s far too heavy). So when I come back from my next voyage I’m going to start regular clear outs and auctions / sales. If I start now there will be less of a panic down the line, and considerably less crap in my life.

Dear young monster

So Saturday evening I decided to have some ‘culture’. So I went to a theatre, a proper theater where they do Hamlet and shit, Bristol Old Vic. And what did I go and see, ‘Dear young monster’. Now it was quite an odd choice and even odder how I got there. Started off with Elaine Paige on Sunday saying that there was a new musical called ‘Started for ten’, which is based on some student wanting to go on ‘University challenge’ and that it was on at the ‘Bristol Old Vic’. So, a quick Google and found said musical, looking at tickets, was around forty quid, thought I don’t want to see it that much, then while I was there I saw this play advertised and the first thing I thought was, ‘Oh, he’s cute’. This cute guy is called ‘Pete Machale’ (I’ve purposely popped that in quotes so when Google comes along with it’s crawler it’ll catalogue it and when he Goggles himself it’ll pop up with my Blog and he can be very scared indeed). Now the interesting thing about this guy, is, he was once a girl. I believe he is now twenty-seven. I think he started transitioning when he was about nineteen. The whole play is a one man show which starts at the beginning of his transition, from his first injection, in the bum, of testosterone (where he faints) and ends closer to present day. It’s called ‘Dear young monster’, as it contains lots of references to Frankenstein, and creates similarities almost to the point of similes in the dialogue. It also covers transphobia, being beaten up (for being trans) and friendship. It’s funny, sincere and sometimes a bit shocking and scary. It’s certainly a journey, very well written and performed (yes he wrote and performed it all, over seventy minutes, correction, he performed it over seventy minutes, I’m sure it took longer to write). Actually on that bracketed point, he mentions that he wrote a version back in 2018 which was ‘short and clumsy’, this version was certainly well polished on a very simple set.

Now here’s the fun thing. As I said originally, ‘that guy is cute’. Now, I have no issues referring to him as a ‘guy’, also no issues using the ‘pronoun’ him, reason being he refers to himself constantly as a ‘him’. I know some trans people would prefer a different pronoun, or even remain non-binary, their choice, which I’d respect. But then comes the complex bit, does he then want to go into a relationship (not saying he even wants one) with a boy or a girl? If it’s a girl, does that the make him a lesbian? If it’s a boy does it make him gay? What if he dates another trans person? These are very deep questions, which don’t necessarily have answers, or indeed correct answers, depending on your point of view. I don’t really care, but one thing I do know, is he’s still cute and as a gay guy I’d certainly date him. I think maybe it’s because of the slightly feminine features of the face, the hands, the gestures. He took his shirt off on a couple of occasions, and he certainly lived up to my expectations, he had a fine chest with hair, almost to the point of a six pack (he’s very thin). There’s a comedian called ‘Sarah Keyworth’ whose a lesbian, but again looks like a boy, I’d date her as well.

Maybe I’m just allergic to straight people.

He got a standing ovation, I wish him well with future endeavors. I got the bus home and then drank too much as usual.

A quiz is a quiz

So normally on a Thursday night I used to run the pub quiz. But since Christmas I haven’t really been up to it, then I got another contract in etc. So I’ve been doing ‘Jays Virtual Quiz’, the one we all did during covid. It’s still a quiz, but I don’t drink seven pints.

Update on the sleeping thing. Listened to a podcast earlier that was doing a review of activity tracker watches. It concluded that the sleep tracking isn’t that accurate. Oh well, if I’m awake I’m awake and boy I was awake all of last night. Still one more night to go and then back on th booze for the weekend. Just try not to binge.

Where there’s a will there’s probably a way

So I’ve been trying to update my will. Should be straightforward. It isn’t. First off I refuse to pay for it. If I’m going to make a large donation to a charity then they can pay for it, call it ‘pay it forward’ if you like. So I’ve been trying through Battersea Dogs Home, so far they have put me in touch with a company that called me back eventually and told me to ignore all the website warnings and use the online form. I did this to the point where the form was not able to apply my wishes. Send an email, get an email back asking what additional ‘features’ I require, replied. Got an email back stating how much it would cost. Emailed back and said ‘Battersea will cover the cost of a phone will’. Got an email back saying ‘oh yes they will’, please book an appointment on this link…. it was the same link I started with. Joy.

Wicked little letters

With Sky cinema I get two free tickets a month, so try and go and see something. Sometimes not so great, but other times fantastic. Tonight’s offering was ‘Wicked little letters’, a story based probably about late 1940’s. About poison pen letters. I won’t give the plot away as it’s well worth seeing. Olivia Colman was outstanding and the swearing was out of this world. And as they say….it’s a night out.

To sleep or not to sleep, that was the question

So I was convinced that when I did not drink, I could not sleep. Awake all night, watching the clock. Then I bought a new Apple watch. Was going to trade the old one in, but decided to keep it as the battery was good enough to last over night and measure my sleep patterns.

A couple of weeks have passed, so I have quite a bit of nightly data. I was expecting to see on the nights I hadn’t drank anything quite a lot of ‘awake’ time, very little ‘deep’ sleep and not much of anything else either. Now here is the strange thing, there is virtually no difference. Takes about the same time to fall asleep (20-25 minutes), same number of deep sleep periods and awake times. So there we have it, it’s all in my head. I think the only difference is I’m conscious of the awake time when I’m coherent and not when I’ve been drinking.

Now I know this knowledge, I have no real issues getting to sleep. As long as I’m relaxed and have a clear head, all is good. I found reading for an hour before lights out is a good way to unwind. I did try some of the ‘sounds’ and meditation stuff, but that just kept me awake.

So at the moment I’m trying to be ‘good’ and not drink on ‘school’ nights. Lets see how long it lasts.