Obesely morbid?

I'll be 37 tomorrow. Not that birthdays mean that much to me - I once turned up a day late to the joint party I was having with my next door neighbour. She was… unimpressed. I'll be celebrating tomorrow though… celebrating my friends' marriage. Needless to say, I'll be live-blogging and tweeting throughout the ceremony, except for the bit where I read John Donne's 'The Good Morrow'.

So anyway,  my thoughts turned to mortality and I decided to check my actuarial future according to various shoddy free online tests. Turns out I'll live to 78 or so. Which is convenient, as my current retirement date takes me to 68, so I won't burden you young folk too much, at least economically.

Your estimated life span is:

78.94 years

The table below shows how each response affects your overall life expectancy.

Ideal weight:	good
Activity level:	average
Stress level:	average
Smoking habits:	good
Drinking habits:	good
Cholesterol level:	good
Saturated fat intake:	good
Blood pressure:	good
Parents' health:	good
Siblings' health	good
Income level:	good
Education:	good
Traffic violations:	good
Use of safety belt:	good

The American IRS thinks I'll live to 83, based solely on my age now and what year it is. Top quality science, I'm sure we all agree.

The most comprehensive test I found is this one (give a fake email address) - it asks about risk, diet, drinking and smoking, environmental factors, how often I floss, how often I poo… It thinks I'll live to 91. Which means more than 50 extra years of this bitter drivel. It also advises me on how to live longer than 91, which begs the question of why I would want to. But if I want an extra 3 months, I should stress less. Daily aspirin supposedly gives me an extra two years' blogging, while flossing daily buys me 12 months. If I hit the gym every day, I might make it to 96. 96 years of boredom and pain, that is.

Bah. My plan is to live until the Book Tower falls on my head. Then my cats can eat my face off until rescued by vandals several years later. Or Michael Gove's Stormtroopers will execute me in a disused toilet for making fun of him. Either way, it beats decades of incontinence and ranting.

All that aside, the real reasons I'll live for a fair while - unless the students get really pissed off - is that I've won life's lottery. I'm male, white, western, highly educated and bourgeois. Bingo - all the fruit lined up as far as this appalling society goes.

Birthday bounty

I'm hooked on the Select Committee's interrogation of various top coppers in pursuit of the hacking story: the Murdochs up next. You can watch it on the BBC, or follow the minute-by-minute coverage on the Guardian. Fairly squirmy so far: Britain's most senior policeman (until yesterday) doesn't seem to think there's anything odd about taking £12,000 of free health-spa luxury. And 25% of the Metropolitan Police's publicity/press department are ex-News International staff. Intriguing if not downright fishy.

However, I want to say thanks to my many friends for their birthday presents and cards: Penguin postcards, Soviet architecture books, book tokens, a photography day, 'Johnners' tapes, Moomins items, camera kit, reading lights: so very much, I'm overwhelmed by your kindness. And the downfall of the Murdochs and the Tories!

I've also bought myself a few things:
Francis Spufford's Red Plenty (a novel of Soviet Utopianism).
David Seed's Science Fiction: A Very Short Introduction.
Mark Radcliffe's memoir, Reelin' in the Years.
The 6th and final Moomins Comic Strip volume.
Robert Coover's The Public Burning, a sprawling (post-?)modernist take on 1950s/60s American politics.
Iain McDonald's The Dervish House, another addition to the postcolonial move in science and speculative fiction.

Oh yes, and some interesting CDs (none of them 10,000 Maniacs' MTV Unplugged today): Natalie Merchant's Ophelia (she was the lead singer in 10,000 Maniacs), Welsh Rare Beat Vol. 1, The Horrors' Skying, the remastered box set of R.E.M.'s Lifes Rich Pageant (how I mourn that missed apostrophe) and three folk box sets from the Guardian: Pete Seeger's American Industrial Ballads, Newport Folk Festival 1959 and Joan Baez's Songbird.

Thursday conundrum

My grandmother is 98 at the weekend, and I'm stuck for a present. Last year's was, frankly, a disaster. Who knew that a skateboard was considered 'inappropriate'? She never got the hang of grinds though her lip tricks were coming on nicely until, well, let's not go into the 'until'.

So - your suggestions please?

Meanwhile, treat yourself to the sounds of Zoot Horn's guitar licks as part of Cruel Brother - now with Myspace and a producer.

The only gift is a portion of thyself

That was Emerson, who was clearly behind the times when it came to consumerism and birthdays.

So thanks to all of you who've given me such excellent gifts: food, books, Penguin postcards, Amazon giftcards and a Moomins mug!

This last and the cake, gently teasing my addiction to all things Apple, are from Christine, who took me for a delicious and gossipy lunch.

Ale and hearty

Morning all. Well, it's 2.30 but feels like the morning to me, as I took half the day off. I didn't even go swimming.

I had a quiet drink in my local, beautiful, Victorian gin-palace last night. Amazingly, pretty much everyone I know turned up, presented me with brilliant, thoughtful presents, and supplied me with as many foaming jugs of ale as I could manage. Laura's Nun Bowling set was pressed into much use, and I also received lots of book tokens, a pristine copy of Harold Laski's Faith, Reason and Civilisation from Alan and Helen (I collect Left Book Club volumes), a compass from Keiti and Co., some ace SF from Gabi, and British Potters' Marks from Emma. The reasoning behind that was my Stoke connections and a determination not to buy a book I already have! My colleagues forsook their partners and children, John came over from Shrewsbury and I was overwhelmed with everybody's kindness, so thanks. I'm especially grateful to the advice on how to meet girls from Gabi and Penny (the university's leading Women's Studies expert, and therefore One Who Knows).

I wasn't, therefore, feeling altogether hale this morning, hence the laziness. Neal and Dan cooked a fine, if unorthodox breakfast of mutton chops, aubergines, mushrooms and poached eggs, then I wandered into university to find that I had to go to union negotiating committee, which really did end the festivities. Now on with my PGCE essay…

Pies in our time

Mentioning my upcoming birthday (not for another week yet) is paying off handsomely. Not only have Owen and Bethan presented me with excellent books and stuff, Christine has come to my office bearing fine pie and quality real ales. So that's lunch sorted out anyway.

Happy birthday Owen

Happy birthday to my brother for yesterday - that's 3 of my siblings, my dad and an uncle in one month!

Thanks Kate

I also received a birthday present today - a mere 6 months after (and before) my birthday to the day! So thanks to Kate for a beautifully-selected pile of CDs and DVD.