A year ago, I was on my computer at work, taking phones calls to the helpdesk as normal. I opened up Firefox for the first time that morning to the BBC News web site (which is the default home page on all my personal computers) to find a breaking story of power surges on the London Underground. I thought nothing of it, but continued to monitor the news feeds on various web sites. It was on Guardian News Blog that finally began to print details of what really had happened. As it became clear, I started to go to FlickR to view almost live pictures of the events as they people involved started to upload them from their mobiles and cameras. As I think about it now, this was the first time I had come across the photo sharing web site. As more and more information became coming through, it became clear this was the biggest terrorist attack our country had ever faced. It is difficult to truly appreciate the chaos and bloodshed that has happened in the morning rush hour, but for me personally there was a different angle. Firstly that I had worked in London for five months, catching tube trains on a daily basis on my two hour commute in and two hour commute out. More eerily, the fact I had been in London to watch War Of The Worlds at the Odeon, Leicester Square on the Saturday 2nd July, the day of Live8. Five days before but looking back now, a completely different world, which has gone forever. Yet, we must strive to take courage, We Are Not Afraid. I came home to find some workmen from Southern Electric had dug up a neighbours front garden (or small cabbage patch, if you will) blocking half the cu-de-sac. As I walked into the living room my worst fears were realised, all power had been cut to the twenty houses on our road. Trying to put a positive gloss on things, I hoped that within a few minutes, the electricity would returned. How do they cope in the third world? I was not willing to wait without an explanation and headed out to speak to the two work men, who appeared to be fiddling with various pipes. I asked when we could expect the power to return. The ‘assistant’, you know the stocky bald type said nothing, while the leader too busy to actually make eye contact just said “give us a couple of hours mate”. Returning indoors, I got changed and decided to rest on the sofa, waiting for someone outside to flip the switch. I drifted off to a gentle sleep, awoke at around 7.30pm when some of the devices in the living room came back to life. After going off for a few second then coming back, the house returned to some sense of normality. I could watch television, I could get back to life. Received my new Arsenal membership card in the post last weekend. Unfortunately, no ticket for Members Day like last year, but I still hold out hope of grabbing a ticket to Dennis Bergkamp’s testimonial. On Monday at work, I ordered the new home kit for next season. This is my first shirt which will have a players name and number on. After careful consideration, I choice Henry and his number fourteen. Only my first Arsenal shirt, from the 1998-99 season, which was a gift from a friend as Teg and the number one on the back (some private joke if you will). I have always decided against having a name or number printed on the back, even for my array of England shirts. Maybe because by having a name and number, you date the shirt ever so much more. I am not a dedicated fan of the North London club, not like Terry. He buys home, away and third choice kit (socks and shorts) every season. Bring on the 19th August.

You already know that I have a stack load of DVD’s, most unwatched, many still sealed in their cellophane packaging. What you don’t know is that my friends from time to time send me DVD movies to watch. Daz, my friend from Uni sent me all the big blockbusters from 2004. Although I had received them in early 2005, it was only last Saturday night I picked up the spindle from the living room and being bored and depressed, decided to watch one of the movies. I opted for Sky Captain & The World Of Tomorrow, which perhaps was the weakest movie of the collection but most suited to fill in a couple of hours before I would drift off to sleep. While it is generally considered a disaster at the box office, you must understand the context. It is a homage to the golden era of cinema of the 40s and 50s, trying to capture the mood of cinema goers of the period. While the story is rather weak and acting not brilliant, it is a great little story, ideal Saturday night fodder. Talking about Saturday nights, I am off to see Pirates Of The Caribbean 2: Dead Man’s Chest at Vue Oxford tomorrow evening. I did not see the first movie until 25th December 2004, when it was given to me as a present. My cousin, Anita commented that Johnny Depp put on an amazing performance, acting almost half drunk throughout his scenes. We watched it together as a family and I loved it. Particularly as my pre-conception had been that it was a kids movie. How wrong had I been. Instead it as fantastic wholesome family entertainment which I thought had die in the magical 1960s. Thankfully, as there is still one more movie to come after this one, another trilogy for me to add to my list of favourites. Then next weekend, we have the return of my favourite superhero, the one and only Superman.