*ring*ring*ring*
T-Lo: Hello?
UNV: Hello. This is BlahDiBlah calling from the UNV office in Geneva. We would like to know if you are available for an assignment as Legal Advisor overseeing the election process in the Congo.
T-Lo: [stares at wall, goes into shock, faints]
After 10 years of submitting thousands of applications that have gone to the Great UN Application Grave In The Sky you people call me now?! NOW?! Why the bloody hell are you doing this to me NOW? It's been so long since I've been on your website that I forgot how to log on. And you call me now?!
I really don't know what to do - I have absolutely set my heart on settling back into Hammer/Toronto for so long now and this comes along. Seriously, universe, stop it now. I've had enough. I'm not normally the praying type but if you're up there, help me Superman!
Thursday
Wednesday
26 sleeps
Those who expect moments of change to be comfortable and free of conflict have not learned their history. ~Joan Wallach Scott
Some predictions for the first month I get back:
1. I will have a freak out and think it was a mistake to move back. That'll happen between 4 and 7 days in. Then I'll get over it.
2. I will not handle being unemployed and start looking for work after one week.
3. I will debate looking for work in the Hammer, but will quickly change my mind and look for work in Toronto, Ottawa or Vancouver.
4. I will train properly again.
5. I will experience massive, massive, massive culture shock.
6. I will go the SPCA. I will get a kitten. I will name her McLovin.
Some predictions for the first month I get back:
1. I will have a freak out and think it was a mistake to move back. That'll happen between 4 and 7 days in. Then I'll get over it.
2. I will not handle being unemployed and start looking for work after one week.
3. I will debate looking for work in the Hammer, but will quickly change my mind and look for work in Toronto, Ottawa or Vancouver.
4. I will train properly again.
5. I will experience massive, massive, massive culture shock.
6. I will go the SPCA. I will get a kitten. I will name her McLovin.
Monday
27 sleeps part 2
I just scrolled down a bit and realized that, at 31 sleeps, I still had my TheNotTheBullet.
Where's those Jungle Oats?
Where's those Jungle Oats?
27 sleeps
***MISSING***Blue Golf CitiGolf 1.6
Last seen outside my flat
Very peppy and nippy
A bit slow in the mornings, doesn't like rain
Answers to TheNotTheBullet
***REWARD IF FOUND***
Ahhhhhhh had my car stolen last night. I staggered out of my flat at 515am and sleep-walked to where she was parked. I almost set off the alarm of the flashy shiny BMW thing that was parked in her place before I noticed that she was gone. Confused, I looked around. Then, it sunk in.
[insert a series of expletives here, shouted from the depths of the diaphram]
I'm going to go listen to Massive Attack and cry into my Jungle Oats.
Thursday
Wednesday
32 sleeps
Isn't that thing the coolest ever? It's called the Helix Hotel, it's being built in Abu Dhabi (been there! [high fives] *misses*) by these dudes. I see stuff like that I'm absolutely blown away. Mind boggled. As a person who appreciates creativity and all it inspires, yet complete lacks it, I have to just sit in silence for a moment and listen to the birds sing.
Tuesday
32 sleeps
Whoo hoo!
Picture this: I'm grooving around the Flat of GnT, rocking my hot pink velveteen leisure suit, listening to this (MotoMoto rocks), merrily packing my books and ruthlessly culling my wardrobe.
One month... still too long in some ways and not long enough in others.
I've got more photos to upload... will do so tomorrow. It's been a while since I've uploaded some fun photos and all my self-indulgent worry blogs are boring me now.
32....31...30 (fires up engine)...
Picture this: I'm grooving around the Flat of GnT, rocking my hot pink velveteen leisure suit, listening to this (MotoMoto rocks), merrily packing my books and ruthlessly culling my wardrobe.
One month... still too long in some ways and not long enough in others.
I've got more photos to upload... will do so tomorrow. It's been a while since I've uploaded some fun photos and all my self-indulgent worry blogs are boring me now.
32....31...30 (fires up engine)...
Monday
Saturday
36 sleeps
I'm having another middle distance glaze day. Make that middle distance glaze week.
TheGreek and I went for 'Easter dinner' last weekend (we washed down vast quantities of prawns with nice wine) and ended up having a fat chat about life, love and rock'n'roll. He watched a documentary on youtube about Mayan calendars and 2012, which freaked him out a bit, which led to discussions about the imbalances in the world, which lead to discussions about positive and negative energy, which led to discussions about karma, which led to discussions about high, low and good (good! good!) vibrations, which led to discussions about cause and effect.
Now, I fully believe in the cause/effect theory. For example, if I buy one of these every day, I create this. Not cool. No wonder Mother Nature's pissed off. But how far does it go? Specifically, if I play this or this or this or this, obviously I'm thinking about how to kill someone, or achieve world domination, or wage effective warfare, or steal people's cars. And those are things I would consider Not Nice to think about. But, as I think these things, I'm putting that energy out there, right? And it must go somewhere, right? Where does it go? What happens to it? And, if my cause and effect theory is correct, then I have to wonder what effect it is having on me, on other people, on the world in general. Or, to balance it out (one of theGreeks theories) I must do something that would be considered nice, like pet kittens or similar. I'll just have to stretch out my arms, raise my eyes to the sky and ask Superman what is going on because this has got my brain in a twist. Hmmmm.... [slack jawed middle distance glaze look in full effect]
TheGreek and I went for 'Easter dinner' last weekend (we washed down vast quantities of prawns with nice wine) and ended up having a fat chat about life, love and rock'n'roll. He watched a documentary on youtube about Mayan calendars and 2012, which freaked him out a bit, which led to discussions about the imbalances in the world, which lead to discussions about positive and negative energy, which led to discussions about karma, which led to discussions about high, low and good (good! good!) vibrations, which led to discussions about cause and effect.
Now, I fully believe in the cause/effect theory. For example, if I buy one of these every day, I create this. Not cool. No wonder Mother Nature's pissed off. But how far does it go? Specifically, if I play this or this or this or this, obviously I'm thinking about how to kill someone, or achieve world domination, or wage effective warfare, or steal people's cars. And those are things I would consider Not Nice to think about. But, as I think these things, I'm putting that energy out there, right? And it must go somewhere, right? Where does it go? What happens to it? And, if my cause and effect theory is correct, then I have to wonder what effect it is having on me, on other people, on the world in general. Or, to balance it out (one of theGreeks theories) I must do something that would be considered nice, like pet kittens or similar. I'll just have to stretch out my arms, raise my eyes to the sky and ask Superman what is going on because this has got my brain in a twist. Hmmmm.... [slack jawed middle distance glaze look in full effect]
Wednesday
Tuesday
40 sleeps
Someone asked me recently what it was that made me start traveling. Is it something I always wanted to do? Or did I go on vacation and just forget to go home? I was drawing a blank for a while then, like a lightning bolt to the forehead, I remembered.
When I was 17, my High School Sweetheart (hereinafter HSS, because I'm too lazy to type that out every time) and I arranged a lunch for our mothers. So, off my mother toddled to his mother's house on a lazy Sunday afternoon. She was gone for about four hours. When she came back, she marched into the house, slammed the front door, pointed a finger at me, and stated "You're going to Europe." I said "Oh no I'm not." My mother won. I went to Europe. Twice. Travel seed planted.
I'll backtrack.
Lunch was going well. The conversation was flowing. Then, his mother said to my mother "I just can't wait until they start having kids!" My mother quietly freaked out. Lunch ended on a high note [happily, my mother refrained from freaking out publicly] and, on the way back to our house, she plotted. And planned.
As much as my mother liked the HSS, she wasn't prepared to see me settle down quite so quickly. As it happened, my high school was planning a cultural exchange to Italy for language and art students. My parents signed me up for it. I didn't want to go...bear in mind that I had no idea why my mother was suddenly shipping me off to Europe. Well, off I went, kicking and screaming. We did Rome, Sorrento, Capri, Naples and Pompeii. It was fun. The food was great. I saw a lot of art. I was homesick - I missed the HSS and, more importantly, my horse and my cat. I was happy to get home after the grueling ten day trip. A couple of days later, the HSS pitched up and took me off to a dinner. On my way out I told my mother that I was so happy to be back in the Hammer.
When I got home my mother suggested I do a family foreign exchange with a French family. Again, this was offered through my high school for language students. I balked. Loudly. Repeatedly. A whole summer in France seemed like an eternity. But my parents signed me up for it. And, kicking and screaming, off I went. My mother said that, after this trip and after my university degree (again, my parents said I must do my degree outside the Hammer), if I wanted to stay in the Hammer for ever and ever and ever like I was threatening to, then I could.
I did France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Holland and almost-Germany-by-accident (pesky trains and directions) on that trip. The family I stayed with in France was amazing... we stayed at their summer house in the South of France, we went sailing on their sailboat in Bordeaux, we hung out at her place in Nancy. I was with my own family in Amsterdam (my mother's side), which was great. My 64 year old uncle offered to take me to a 'coffee shop'. I politely declined. I ate my way through that summer and didn't speak English once. I was upset that I had to go back to Canada when the time came, but I was soothed by the fact that I was bumped to First Class on Air France. I discovered my love of carpaccio on that flight.
The rest, as they say, is history.
When I was 17, my High School Sweetheart (hereinafter HSS, because I'm too lazy to type that out every time) and I arranged a lunch for our mothers. So, off my mother toddled to his mother's house on a lazy Sunday afternoon. She was gone for about four hours. When she came back, she marched into the house, slammed the front door, pointed a finger at me, and stated "You're going to Europe." I said "Oh no I'm not." My mother won. I went to Europe. Twice. Travel seed planted.
I'll backtrack.
Lunch was going well. The conversation was flowing. Then, his mother said to my mother "I just can't wait until they start having kids!" My mother quietly freaked out. Lunch ended on a high note [happily, my mother refrained from freaking out publicly] and, on the way back to our house, she plotted. And planned.
As much as my mother liked the HSS, she wasn't prepared to see me settle down quite so quickly. As it happened, my high school was planning a cultural exchange to Italy for language and art students. My parents signed me up for it. I didn't want to go...bear in mind that I had no idea why my mother was suddenly shipping me off to Europe. Well, off I went, kicking and screaming. We did Rome, Sorrento, Capri, Naples and Pompeii. It was fun. The food was great. I saw a lot of art. I was homesick - I missed the HSS and, more importantly, my horse and my cat. I was happy to get home after the grueling ten day trip. A couple of days later, the HSS pitched up and took me off to a dinner. On my way out I told my mother that I was so happy to be back in the Hammer.
When I got home my mother suggested I do a family foreign exchange with a French family. Again, this was offered through my high school for language students. I balked. Loudly. Repeatedly. A whole summer in France seemed like an eternity. But my parents signed me up for it. And, kicking and screaming, off I went. My mother said that, after this trip and after my university degree (again, my parents said I must do my degree outside the Hammer), if I wanted to stay in the Hammer for ever and ever and ever like I was threatening to, then I could.
I did France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Holland and almost-Germany-by-accident (pesky trains and directions) on that trip. The family I stayed with in France was amazing... we stayed at their summer house in the South of France, we went sailing on their sailboat in Bordeaux, we hung out at her place in Nancy. I was with my own family in Amsterdam (my mother's side), which was great. My 64 year old uncle offered to take me to a 'coffee shop'. I politely declined. I ate my way through that summer and didn't speak English once. I was upset that I had to go back to Canada when the time came, but I was soothed by the fact that I was bumped to First Class on Air France. I discovered my love of carpaccio on that flight.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Monday
41 sleeps
Packing is a nightmare.
Packing to move from house to house is bad enough, but packing to move from continent to continent is on another level entirely. I have moved continents... [counts]... 6 times so far. This will be my 7th and, knowing me, not likely my last. I've been gathering, packing, sorting and removing this past week. It really is taking some serious discipline to get it done. I open a cupboard, sigh, close it, go have an Angry Nap. I cannot bring myself to get rid of very many books, so I've opted to be ruthless with my wardrobe instead.
What truly amazes me is all the stuff I find. Like, essays I submitted to Constitutional Law in 2002, or the CD collection that has been traveling with me since 1996 (those are some well traveled CDs), or the sunglasses I bought when I was in the Philippines in 1997. It's largely stuff that I forgot I had. Or double stuff... like 2 sets of silverware, or 3 can openers. Conversely, in my day to day life I lose all the important things, like the charger for my Cybershot, or my passport, or my tenuous grasp on reality. But ask me where my copy of The Black Stallion is (that I have owned since I was 7) anytime, anywhere, and I will be able to find it in 3 seconds flat.
I've also started shredding stuff at work. That's great fun. What is this? [picks up folder] Ah! Old draft Agreements! [runs to shredder] Shred! Shred! Shred! [laughs with glee] Whoo hoo! [high fives] *misses*
Oh! I also bought (and wrapped) myself a going away present. I'll put it on the floor where the kist used to be the night before I leave. Then, when I wake up, I can gasp in surprise, mock-shock on my face, and open the present gleefully. It just better not be another book!
Packing to move from house to house is bad enough, but packing to move from continent to continent is on another level entirely. I have moved continents... [counts]... 6 times so far. This will be my 7th and, knowing me, not likely my last. I've been gathering, packing, sorting and removing this past week. It really is taking some serious discipline to get it done. I open a cupboard, sigh, close it, go have an Angry Nap. I cannot bring myself to get rid of very many books, so I've opted to be ruthless with my wardrobe instead.
What truly amazes me is all the stuff I find. Like, essays I submitted to Constitutional Law in 2002, or the CD collection that has been traveling with me since 1996 (those are some well traveled CDs), or the sunglasses I bought when I was in the Philippines in 1997. It's largely stuff that I forgot I had. Or double stuff... like 2 sets of silverware, or 3 can openers. Conversely, in my day to day life I lose all the important things, like the charger for my Cybershot, or my passport, or my tenuous grasp on reality. But ask me where my copy of The Black Stallion is (that I have owned since I was 7) anytime, anywhere, and I will be able to find it in 3 seconds flat.
I've also started shredding stuff at work. That's great fun. What is this? [picks up folder] Ah! Old draft Agreements! [runs to shredder] Shred! Shred! Shred! [laughs with glee] Whoo hoo! [high fives] *misses*
Oh! I also bought (and wrapped) myself a going away present. I'll put it on the floor where the kist used to be the night before I leave. Then, when I wake up, I can gasp in surprise, mock-shock on my face, and open the present gleefully. It just better not be another book!
Thursday
45 sleeps
Aside from the non-synchronized traffic lights, another thing that drives me absolutely batsh*t crazy about Cape Town is all the flyers that people stick on your car when you park in town. I went out for a meal on a Saturday night a while ago with friends. When I got back to TheNotTheBullet, the entire windshield was littered with glossy flyers of half naked women and promises of fabulous nights in the dark recesses of random clubs somewhere. I swept across the windshield with my left arm, then again with my right and managed to get 80% of them off. One flyer caught my eye.
Balkanology? That sounds interesting. Now, before I go on I should mention that I have written two in-depth essays, one from a historical socio-political perspective and the other from an international criminal law perspective, on the 1990s Balkans conflict.
So, naturally, I saw "Balkanology" and I thought that it was a retrospective on the conflicts and the events of the 20th century in the area leading up to the recent declaration of independence in Kosovo, maybe a photography exhibit , some speeches, literature to read, forums of discussion...I got really excited - Mental stimulation! Cultural relevance! International relations! Conflict studies!
Nope. It's some Balkan-fusion beat party in Durbanville somewhere. Boo! Hiss!
Balkanology? That sounds interesting. Now, before I go on I should mention that I have written two in-depth essays, one from a historical socio-political perspective and the other from an international criminal law perspective, on the 1990s Balkans conflict.
So, naturally, I saw "Balkanology" and I thought that it was a retrospective on the conflicts and the events of the 20th century in the area leading up to the recent declaration of independence in Kosovo, maybe a photography exhibit , some speeches, literature to read, forums of discussion...I got really excited - Mental stimulation! Cultural relevance! International relations! Conflict studies!
Nope. It's some Balkan-fusion beat party in Durbanville somewhere. Boo! Hiss!
Wednesday
46 sleeps
The time is approaching fast... in some ways not fast enough, in others too fast.
Well, blog entries about dream sequences seem to be the trend, so I'll give you my recurring dream / nightmare / freaky sleep thing that I've been having over the past couple of months, because I can't really figure it out. Ms K has given a nice interpretation, as has the Thrower, theGreek told me I had "issues" (pot/kettle, cupcake?) and I keep having the darn dream.
Alright, here goes [in present tense for effect ;)]...
I am laying on a recliner in an empty damp dark cement room with no windows. I sense it is in a basement but can't be sure. The only thing I can move are my eyes, otherwise I'm pinned down by something I can't see. I feel something whooshing towards me. I can't see it with my eyes, but I sense that it is a massive black pure evil decaying screeching bat/bird thing. It hovers about six inches above me. I can sense its wings swooshing past either side of me and I can feel its feathers and decaying flesh hit me as it stares into me with razor like precision.
On top of not being able to move, I am now absolutely paralyzed with fear. I'm actually so petrified that I can't get mad at myself for being petrified. Then it starts to suck me out of myself... I can actually feel my spirit/soul leave my physical body inch by inch. My ears are bursting with the sound of gushing water. I turn my head and see myself lying on the recliner and realize that I have to fight this thing or I'm going to die. The only parts of me that are still spirit/soul-and-physical-body together are my fingers and my toes. So, I fight with everything I've got. We lock into battle, this massive invisible soul sucking evil smelly bat/bird and I. For a few seconds I feel like I'm not going to be able to get myself back then, with a snap crack, I'm back together in one piece, laying on the recliner. Then I wake up and I'm in my bedroom, sometimes its the bedroom from the house where I grew up, other times its a bedroom from one of the other +/- 40 places I've stayed over the past 15 years. And I'm busy dying. I'm gasping for air, wheezing and coughing. Blood is gushing out of my eyes, ears, nose and mouth. My limbs feel like cement. I'm feverish and shaking. And this bloody massive invisible soul sucking evil smelly bat/bird thing is with me in the bedroom, and it's mad as hell. It's launching my books off my bookshelf at me, at the walls, through the windows. I know that if I make it out of the bedroom, I'll be able to get away from that thing and be safe. So, with everything I've got, I get out of the bed and drag myself, crawl, pull myself along all the while being nailed by books that the thing is launching at me. I make it to the door and pull myself up by gripping the door handle. I turn the door handle. As I do, the thing starts screeching, like the sound of a thousand nails on a blackboard through a loudspeaker. Then I wake up for real.
Maybe I'm just nuts ;)
Well, blog entries about dream sequences seem to be the trend, so I'll give you my recurring dream / nightmare / freaky sleep thing that I've been having over the past couple of months, because I can't really figure it out. Ms K has given a nice interpretation, as has the Thrower, theGreek told me I had "issues" (pot/kettle, cupcake?) and I keep having the darn dream.
Alright, here goes [in present tense for effect ;)]...
I am laying on a recliner in an empty damp dark cement room with no windows. I sense it is in a basement but can't be sure. The only thing I can move are my eyes, otherwise I'm pinned down by something I can't see. I feel something whooshing towards me. I can't see it with my eyes, but I sense that it is a massive black pure evil decaying screeching bat/bird thing. It hovers about six inches above me. I can sense its wings swooshing past either side of me and I can feel its feathers and decaying flesh hit me as it stares into me with razor like precision.
On top of not being able to move, I am now absolutely paralyzed with fear. I'm actually so petrified that I can't get mad at myself for being petrified. Then it starts to suck me out of myself... I can actually feel my spirit/soul leave my physical body inch by inch. My ears are bursting with the sound of gushing water. I turn my head and see myself lying on the recliner and realize that I have to fight this thing or I'm going to die. The only parts of me that are still spirit/soul-and-physical-body together are my fingers and my toes. So, I fight with everything I've got. We lock into battle, this massive invisible soul sucking evil smelly bat/bird and I. For a few seconds I feel like I'm not going to be able to get myself back then, with a snap crack, I'm back together in one piece, laying on the recliner. Then I wake up and I'm in my bedroom, sometimes its the bedroom from the house where I grew up, other times its a bedroom from one of the other +/- 40 places I've stayed over the past 15 years. And I'm busy dying. I'm gasping for air, wheezing and coughing. Blood is gushing out of my eyes, ears, nose and mouth. My limbs feel like cement. I'm feverish and shaking. And this bloody massive invisible soul sucking evil smelly bat/bird thing is with me in the bedroom, and it's mad as hell. It's launching my books off my bookshelf at me, at the walls, through the windows. I know that if I make it out of the bedroom, I'll be able to get away from that thing and be safe. So, with everything I've got, I get out of the bed and drag myself, crawl, pull myself along all the while being nailed by books that the thing is launching at me. I make it to the door and pull myself up by gripping the door handle. I turn the door handle. As I do, the thing starts screeching, like the sound of a thousand nails on a blackboard through a loudspeaker. Then I wake up for real.
Maybe I'm just nuts ;)
Friday
51 sleeps
This 6 am work start thing is for the birds. I got into my car at 515am, looked up, saw Scorpio constellation high in the sky, cursed for about 5 minutes, revved TheNotTheBullet to life and careened to work. Now here I sit, watching fight videos on YouTube and mentally preparing myself for my own fight tomorrow night. I also had a quick chat with the Sexy Surfer. He's been in Canada for about a month now and he's loving every second of it. It's nice to see the country through a fresh perspective. Canada is a great country, I must admit. I still don't know what, exactly, I'm going to do when I get back, but I'm sure it'll all work out. All I know is that right now I'm jones-ing for a Tim Horton's coffee.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
